


And All the Dead Lie Down (I felt Siroccos Crawl)

by tenrousei_kuroi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Gen, Reincarnation, Second War with Voldemort, Sirius has to be Reggie's daddy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenrousei_kuroi/pseuds/tenrousei_kuroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter arrives at Number 12, Grimmauld Place to find his godfather is concocting an extremely rare potion. "Of all the people who died, Sirius, why waste this on HIM?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arcturus is his other name

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters one and two function as two halves of a one-shot. Chapter three is a bonus chapter. More bonus chapters might happen later.

**part 1/2**

 

 

The summer after Harry’s fourth year, Remus came alone to collect him. Now the two of them stood in front of a line of tall buildings, Harry in particular feeling very insignificant by comparison. He flicked his head back and forth, noticing that the house numbers went from 11 to 13, skipping number 12.

“Here Harry,” said Lupin hoarsely. Harry could not remember the last time he’d heard his former professor’s voice sound anything but strained. Lupin adjusted Harry’s trunk and set down his owl cage in order to prize a piece of paper from his pocket. “You need to read this.”

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

“What is this?” demanded Harry. Lupin only smiled at him.

“Just give it a second.”

A massive rumble shook the street and Harry started. The buildings in front of him were splitting apart and sliding away from each other like two very fast glaciers. Harry watched in awe as a new house, Number 12, flickered into sight.

It took a few minutes for the dust to settle. Harry was still awestruck.

“What is this place?” he gasped.

“Your godfather’s house,” Lupin explained, pushing Harry forward gently by the shoulders. “He’s letting Dumbledore use it as headquarters for the Order—that’s the group of people fighting against Voldemort.”

Harry only nodded numbly. Lupin rang the doorbell.

A few minutes later, the door swung open and a very exasperated man with long black hair was standing on the threshold. It was indeed Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, and he was looking a good deal better than the last time Harry had seen him. His hair was regaining some of its shine and he’d filled out a bit, no longer so skeletal. His skin looked healthier and despite his obviously frustrated expression, a brief smile dared to flit across his face.

“Sirius,” Harry breathed, but before he could say or do much more, Lupin urged him inside.

“Remus how many times am I going to have to remind you not to ring the doorbell? Do I need to put up a _sign?_ ” Sirius hissed, although his voice was fairly good-natured.

“Sorry, Padfoot, in all the excitement it slipped my mind. Did you get her quieted down?”

“Yes,” Sirius answered.

“Who’re you talking about?” Harry asked while he frantically looked around, trying to take in everything he could. The entryway was dark, but he could see the outlines of frames all over the walls and one particularly large one by the door. There was a staircase immediately to his right and a long hallway to the left. “Wow this place is huge, Sirius, I had no idea you were rich!”

Sirius laughed. “It’s my parents’ old house, but they’re both dead now. That over there,” he pointed to the large photo frame by the door, partially concealed by a row of curtains. “Is a portrait of my wonderful mother, commissioned god only knows how many years ago by my father. Loud noises— _like doorbells_ —“ he narrowed his eyes at Lupin. “Wake her up and she starts yelling. I had to resort to drastic measures to shut her up when you two arrived just now.”

“And just what were those?” asked Lupin with a smirk, but Sirius refused to answer.

“Come on, Harry,” Sirius took him by the shoulders and led him up the stairs. “Let’s get you situated in a room and then we can get some dinner started.”

As they walked away, Harry swiveled his head around and listened carefully. From behind the dusky curtains, he could just barely hear Sirius’s mother crying.

The first floor landing was as grandiose as the rest of the house, and twice as musty.

“Sorry, no one’s lived here in a very long time,” Sirius explained sheepishly  when he noticed Harry swiping cobwebs off his sleeve. “Not since my mom died at least, unless you count the elf.”

“You have a house elf?” Harry asked in mild disgust.

Sirius tilted his head. “Yes…his name is Kreacher and he’s positively vile.”

Harry only shrugged. He was very excited to see his godfather and didn’t want to start a fight, but memories of Dobby’s forced servitude and abuse and his own miserable existence at the Dursleys’ made it impossible for him not to say anything. “Can’t say I’m in a position to blame him.”

Sirius frowned curiously. “Well anyway,” he continued. “We’ve got some spare bedrooms down the hall here. I figured you could share one with Ron and Hermione.”

“They’re coming here?” Harry asked.

Sirius nodded eagerly. “Next week. The whole Weasley family, actually. I’m told Molly’ll be keen to help me clean this place up a bit.”

Harry nodded absentmindedly. He imagined Ms. Weasley would be more than eager to start in on the dusky house.

On their way down the hall, they passed two doors with nameplates. The first said ‘Sirius Orion Black’ in a fancy gold script and Harry smiled as they walked by it. He found himself suddenly insatiably curious about what Sirius’s teenage bedroom might look like. Before he could inquire, though, they passed another door, this one emblazoned with a slightly longer engraving:

‘Do not enter without express permission from Regulus Arcturus Black.’

Harry actually stopped walking. Sirius had taken three steps before noticing and turning back.

“Who’s Regulus?” asked Harry before he could stop himself.

When he received no answer, Harry turned to his godfather. Sirius’s face was mostly hidden in shadow (none of the lamps down the hall had been lit and very little light had managed to cut through the grime covering the window at the end of the hall). The nature of Sirius’s silence made Harry uncomfortable, and he began to regret voicing his question.

Finally, just as Harry was about to apologize, Sirius spoke. “…I used to have a brother,” he said shortly.

“O—oh,” Harry nodded quickly. He didn’t need to inquire further to realize he’d stumbled upon a sore topic. Perhaps Sirius’s brother was dead…it made the most sense, after all, Sirius said no one had lived in this house for years, and if a member of the Black family were still alive, surely he would have moved in or at least sold or maintained the property?

Harry was jolted from his thoughts by Sirius speaking once more. “I’ve started clearing out your room,” he said with forced cheerfulness. Harry followed him as they resumed walking. “There’s a little work left, though, I’m sorry. I haven’t had much time and it took me a week just to clear that moth colony out of the kitchen…”

The room Sirius had prepared for Harry had to be three times the size of his bedroom at the Dursleys’ and ten times the size his cupboard had been. He really couldn’t have been happier, but Sirius seemed highly embarrassed that he could not offer Harry more.

“The rooms on the second landing are much nicer,” he rambled as Harry sauntered around the room, jaw slightly agape. “But it’s going to be a while before I’d let anyone sleep in those, they’re so cluttered and overrun they’re dangerous, and if you stand still long enough you can hear lots of scurrying, so it’s going to be a multiple-person job to clear them out. I swear I heard hissing from inside one. In a few months, though, I’m sure we can have one ready. This’ll just be temporary…”

Sirius trailed off when he saw how widely Harry was smiling.

“Harry…?”

Harry walked up to Sirius and did something he’d never done before: hugged him fully.

“What’s this?” Sirius asked in genuine surprise.

Harry pulled back and stared up at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s just…you were talking as if you expected he to be here for, you know, a while…”

For a moment Sirius looked puzzled. Then he laughed, the sound very reminiscent of a bark. “Harry didn’t Remus tell you?”

“Tell him what?” came a voice from behind them.

Harry turned around to see Lupin leaning into the room with one hand braced on either side of the doorway.

“The news!” said Sirius, swinging out his arms. “That Harry’s moving in with me! That is…I mean, providing that he wants to…” Sirius glanced sideways at Harry nervously.

“Seriously?” Harry gasped. Sirius immediately relaxed. “Professor Lupin, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry,” Lupin laughed. “It must have slipped my mind.” He was giving Sirius a knowing look that suggested he’d forgotten on purpose. Sirius mock-glared at him.

“You’re really excited, huh, Harry?” Lupin prompted.

“Of course! Anything to get away from the Dursleys! …I don’t have to go back there again, do I?”

“You’ll need to check in once or twice at the beginning of each summer, but don’t worry, it’ll only be for a couple of hours,” Lupin said.

“Wow…” Harry murmured.

Lupin retreated into the hall for a moment and then returned lugging Hedwig’s cage and Harry’s trunk. “Here Harry, you can start unpacking. I need to borrow Sirius downstairs for a minute. Come join us when you’re done.”

“Okay,” said Harry, kneeling to unlatch his trunk. He was still giddy with excitement that he never had to live at Number 4, Privet Drive again. An entire room to himself, with no locks on the outside of the door!

“What do you need, Moony?” Sirius asked as Lupin prompted him out the door.

“A package arrived for you with the word ‘urgent’ scrawled across it and I really want to know what’s inside…”

A half an hour later, the rumbling in Harry’s stomach was becoming greater than his desire to continue sprawling his things all about his new bedroom. He decided to venture downstairs and take the two men up on their offer of dinner.

No one had yet to show him where the kitchen was, though, and he wandered aimlessly up and down the hallway on the ground level before finally hearing voices he could follow.

“…I don’t know, Sirius, but you can’t possibly be thinking of doing it?” Lupin was demanding. Harry paused in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt what sounded like a very interesting conversation. He felt a little guilty spying on his godfather, but his body seemed to be on autopilot.

“You would have me just give up this opportunity?” Sirius was hissing.

“Even if it worked, Sirius…would you be doing them any favors? And besides, who would you choose? _How_ would you choose?”

There was a short silence followed by a frustrated sigh from Lupin.

“You’re doing this no matter what I say, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Whoever sent this wouldn’t have done so if they didn’t want me to take advantage of this chance to—”

“But you don’t know who sent it, Sirius!”

“Of course I do,” Sirius insisted vehemently. “I’d recognized this handwriting anywhere! And besides, what’s it matter?”

Harry’s breath hitched. What were they talking about? Carelessly, he leaned forward, accidentally knocking open the door to the kitchen.

Immediately Sirius and Lupin stopped talking. Knowing he had no other option, Harry slowly walked in, acting as though he’d heard nothing of their conversation.

“Hi guys,” he said conversationally.

Lupin gave him a smile. “Hi Harry, there’s some dinner heating up on the stove. Your godfather and I were just discussing…”

Harry interrupted before Lupin was forced to think of an excuse. “Are you staying the night, Professor?” he asked.

“You know I’m not your professor anymore…”

“He’s actually going to be living here with us, when he’s not off gallivanting for Dumbledore,” Sirius explained. “I’ve got him a room sort of cleared out a few doors down from ours.”

“Ah,” Harry nodded and helped himself to some of the soup bubbling on the stove. A small part of him leaped with joy at the prospect that Ms. Weasley would soon be there, helping to cook for everyone.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Harry asked, trying to be nonchalant, as he sat down at the table. Neither Sirius nor Lupin had thought fast enough to hide the small, opened package or the letter that both sat on the table in front of Sirius.

“It’s asphodel,” said Lupin slowly, and after leaning forward, Harry could indeed see that a small bundle of dried flowers lie concealed in the brown wrappings.

“Okay,” said Harry, wondering why on earth the two men would be arguing about such a common potions ingredient.

“Sirius was just going to slip it into the cupboard with the rest of the potions ingredients he never uses,” Lupin said almost threateningly.

“Right,” Sirius muttered. He scooped up the flowers and made off to another room, slipping the note into his back pocket as he did so.

 

 

 

“How soon next week will everyone else arrive?” asked Harry, scrubbing hard at the stubborn bricks around the mantle in the first-floor drawing room. He’d been on his knees working at it for twenty minutes and still the yellowed smoke stains showed no signs of leaving.

Sirius’s head popped back up from behind the sofa, where he was repairing the upholstery and simultaneously keeping an eye out for holes in the wall.

“Thursday evening. First Order meeting’s scheduled for Friday, just before dinner. You kids’ll be banished to your rooms for the duration of that, I’m afraid. Dumbledore doesn’t want you lot getting involved.”

Harry shrugged disinterestedly. After the horror of his fourth year, a year spent calmly letting the adults around him care for everything would be a welcome break. He was truly fine with being in the dark, unless he was dragged into another mystery up at the school (in which case all bets were off).

“Thanks for helping me clean, by the way,” Sirius added. “I know it can’t be much fun. I’ll bet this probably wasn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted to come live with me, huh?”

Harry threw his scrub brush at the sofa where it collided with a wet _smack._ “You idiot,” he said. “If you recall, I agreed to stay with you back when you were still homeless.”

Sirius broke into the first real grin Harry had seen since he arrived.

Harry got up to collect his brush. He didn’t resume his cleaning, though, instead choosing to stare longingly at the bricks, which long ago he supposed had been white.

“My parents did like to smoke,” Sirius said apologetically as he approached Harry from behind. Smoothly he waved his wand and the mantle returned to its former white sheen.

Harry folded his arms. “You couldn’t have done that a half an hour ago?” He griped.

Sirius chuckled. “I’m sorry, Harry, I wasn’t thinking. Here, come help me get some of these old photos down. Grab one of the sacks from the sofa, we can throw them all in there and then toss them out.”

Harry obliged. Sirius started haphazardly tearing photo frames (some of them empty and some of the containing screaming occupants) off the walls, tearing wallpaper as he went. Some of them stuck more than others, and Sirius was forced to take out his wand on several occasions.

The little people in the frames cursed Sirius at the top of their voices. Some shook their fists or brandished wands.

Sirius hastily shoved a framed photo into Harry’s hand, expecting him to toss it. Harry instead looked at it carefully. A wide-eyed young man dressed in expensive dress robes was staring up at him in abject horror.

“Er, Sirius, are you sure you don’t want to keep some of these?” Harry asked, bewildered.

Sirius was busy scooping all the photos off the mantelpiece. They clanged and crashed when he chucked them all in a bag together.

“No, not really, why?” He asked.

“Well aren’t these people, like, your family?” Harry questioned. It seemed to him that throwing away a photograph was like killing. “I just thought…you’d want some pictures to remember them by?”

Sirius scoffed. “My family? No, I’d rather forget them, really.”

“Master would like to forget a lot of things,” came a voice from somewhere just behind Harry.

Harry started so badly he dropped the frame he was holding. The man screamed as the glass in front of him shattered and his frame cracked.

“Kreacher!” Sirius yelled.

An old house elf, wrinkled and dressed only in a kind of loincloth, was scavenging around in one of the trash bags full of photos.

“Master has no respect for his family’s treasures,” the elf croaked in despair.

“Get out!” Sirius insisted. “And put those back right now.”

Sirius rushed forward and yanked from Kreacher’s hands the photos he’d removed from the bags. Kreacher made a keening noise as they slipped from his grip.

“Go, go, go, out,” Sirius commanded, pushing Kreacher away with the toe of his boot. “Get away from here.”

“Master and Mistress’s photographs—” the elf wailed. Sirius pushed him harshly from the room.

“Stay out, Kreacher,” he ordered. “Honestly,” he said, returning to Harry and throwing the pictures away again. “He’s a goddam pack rat, always trying to stop me from throwing anything away…”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a small pang in his heart for the elf, though. He stared down at the crushed photos and remembered the day he’d seen the first picture of his parents. When Hagrid had given him that photo album, it had been like a part of him was completed, like he was whole. Having those pictures to remember his mom and dad by was very important to him. How would he feel if it were all just tossed away by someone who didn’t care?

Sirius was muttering angrily to himself about Kreacher and prizing a particularly well-glued frame off the wall by the fireplace. Harry reached blindly into one of the sacks and pulled out a couple of photos. One was of a group of young women sitting arm in arm on a front porch somewhere. The other was of a man and a woman at their wedding ceremony, both of them bearing such a strong resemblance to Harry’s godfather that he assumed them to be Sirius’s parents.

Harry leaned out into the hallway where he saw Kreacher, sulking at the wall.

“Kreacher…” Harry whispered.

Kreacher did not immediately answer him. First he finished the conversation he’d been having with himself, then he turned slowly to face Harry.

“What does the little brat want from Kreacher?” he said.

Harry didn’t say anything. Instead he held out the frames urgently. He needed to get back before Sirius realized he’d gone.

Kreacher stared at him with large, watery eyes. Harry shook the photos up and down a little.

“Here, take them. And hide them well so Sirius doesn’t find them again. I think one is a photo of your masters…”

Kreacher snatched them from him immediately. He didn’t thank Harry, but the protective manner in which he held the crooked frames to his chest was enough.

When Harry returned to Sirius’s side he saw the man had briefly paused his tirade. There was a picture in his hand and instead of throwing it away without a second thought as he had all the others, this one he was staring at with great care. Harry inched closer until he could see Sirius’s face. His expression was hard to read.

Harry stood on tip-toe to get a glimpse of the photo. It was of a young boy, maybe nine or ten, with raven-black hair so dark it was almost blue. He was dressed in his sleeping clothes and very busy cuddling an exasperated-looking calico cat.

“Who’s that?” asked Harry quietly. Sirius seemed to snap out of a trance.

“Huh? Oh, no one, nothing…just another relative…no one.”

Swiftly he threw the photo away with the others. Harry stared at the sack it was in for a long time.

When he looked back to Sirius he saw the man was staring at a large tapestry on the opposite wall. Embroidered on it was some kind of family tree with bright gold and silver connection-lines.

“Woah,” Harry breathed, glancing at some of the dates. “This thing goes back forever…”

Sirius gave an experimental tug on the cloth. When it refused to budge, he sighed. “Probably some kind of permanent sticking charm, courtesy of my mother most likely. I’m not sure I’ve the energy to tackle this right now. Maybe after lunch…or tomorrow.”

He led Harry from the room and back to the kitchen for sandwiches and a rest.

The next morning Harry woke up late. The clock by his bed read eleven-thirty.

Harry scrambled up. Why hadn’t Sirius woken him up? They’d been up every day at seven so far, trying desperately to get Grimmauld Place ready for the Order. Hastily he got dressed and jogged down to the kitchen where he found only Lupin, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, flipping idly through the newspaper.

“Good morning, Professor,” said Harry, taking a seat. “Where’s Sirius?”

“It’s nearly noon, I haven’t been your professor for a year and Sirius is in the study,” said Lupin, lowing his paper and giving Harry a smile. “Don’t bother him, though, he’s…busy.”

Harry tilted his head. “Doing what? Cleaning?”

Lupin scoffed. “Yeah, something like that…Here, Harry, sit down, I’ll make you some lunch.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry insisted.

“No, really, I feel bad I’ve been too busy to help you two with the house much, this’ll be my contribution.”

“All right,” Harry laughed while Lupin rummaged around in the cupboards.

A minute later, Sirius came streaking in.

“Moony!” he called. “I need your help. Someone has to stir while I crush these.” He waived a handful of brittle twigs.

Harry stared at his godfather in amazement. He looked almost crazed. He didn’t seem to notice Harry at all.

Lupin mouthed something over Sirius’s shoulder at Harry and the led Sirius from the room. From Sirius’s back pocket, a crumpled piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. Neither Sirius no Lupin noticed it.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but could make himself. His curiosity got the better of him and once the two men were gone, he snatched up the paper. The handwriting was completely unfamiliar, a languid, aristocratic script.

_Sirius,_

_This is asphodel found growing of its own accord beneath a yew tree, picked at high noon by a child. If it’s found its way to you, then surely I’m long dead. I trust you understand how rare it is, just as I trust you know how to use it, and who to use it for—Divination was always my strong suit. (It’s how I kept up with you when you were little)._

There was no signature but Harry, just like Sirius, didn’t need one to divine who the letter was likely from. Harry pocketed the paper, slightly guilty for having read it, but not nearly so guilty as he was curious. He just needed to be absolutely sure his hunch was right.

Harry crept off down the hallway and back to the front door. With no preamble, he flung back the curtains over the portrait of Sirius’s mother.

The life-size painting flung up her hands against the sudden light and let out a yell.

“Don’t start screaming,” Harry warned urgently. “My name is Harry Potter and I just had a question.”

The woman’s eyes began to boil with an indistinct rage the more Harry spoke. “Intruder!” she hissed. “Disturbing my house, befouling my home!”

“Please,” Harry begged, hoping desperately Sirius and Lupin wouldn’t hear. “Ms. Black just glance at this, is this your handwriting?”

Harry held out the letter to her. “It’s got these weirdly shaped d’s, see…like the person who wrote ‘em started at the bottom and also left off the tails. It’s exactly how Sirius’s d’s look in the letters he’s sent me. Same s’s, too, see how they have that extra swirl?”

To Harry’s surprise and relief, the woman leaned forward in her frame. Harry held the paper out further.

The woman sniffed. “It seems similar to my hand, yes…”

Harry smiled and folded the letter back up. “Thank you, Ms. Black,” he said earnestly. “I’ll tell Sirius he has to be nice to you from now on. Would you like me to leave the curtains open?”

“No, close them,” insisted Ms. Black. “I’ve no desire to see the kinds of filth my son lets in to my home as they traipse in and out the door like they own it.”

“All right,” Harry said, sliding the drapes shut. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll see about getting them cleaned for you.”

“How thoughtful,” was the reply and Harry smiled because it was only partially sarcastic.

Harry turned around, intent on sneaking back into the kitchen before he was missed, but no such luck. Both Lupin and Sirius, evidently alerted by Ms. Black’s initial yelling, were standing in the entryway.

Harry offered his best smile. “Hi guys,” he said sheepishly.

Lupin held out his hand and Harry handed him the parchment. “Sorry I read your letter, Sirius,” he said. “But you left it in the kitchen.”

Sirius only shrugged. He seemed more worried than mad. “I guess you should come and see what we’re making,” he offered.

“What you’re making,” corrected Lupin. “I’ll take no credit for this.”

“Moony doesn’t approve,” Sirius muttered, turning down the hall. Harry followed him.

“You’re damn right he doesn’t,” Lupin griped, but he followed Sirius as well.

The ground floor study was a small, cozy room, and Sirius appeared to have converted it into a makeshift potions lab. A smoggy haze hung about the air and it was very hot. On the desk there sat an improvised Bunsen burner with a cauldron bubbling sluggishly overtop it.

Harry peered over the rim. A sluggish, grey liquid was roiling about.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“It doesn’t have a name,” Lupin explained from somewhere amongst the smoke. Harry heard Sirius close the door.

“Can’t let the humidity fluctuate too much,” he explained.

“…no name?” Harry asked.

“Well, none that we can pronounce, anyway,” Lupin continued, stirring the grey liquid with the ladle handed to him by Sirius. “All the references I’ve seen describe it with a series of symbols not in any language your godfather or I can read.”

“You’re trying to make a rare potion you’ve only read about?” Harry asked, remembering vividly his second year, and the exploits with polyjuice potion he’d gone through with Hermione and Ron. Hopefully this endeavor would end better.

“In books from the library here at Grimmauld Place,” Lupin admitted. “From near as I can tell, this particular potion hasn’t been brewed in thousands of years, if ever.”

Harry’s eyes widened in amazement. “Why not?” he asked. “Because that asphodel stuff’s hard to get?”

“Precisely,” said Lupin. “If you read the letter from Sirius’s mum then you know the insanely specific circumstances under which the plant must be harvested. The fact that she found some is…remarkable. Even more so that she would have it sent to Sirius.”

“What is this potion going to do?” Harry asked. He was vaguely familiar with the connotations of the yew tree, and the various uses of asphodel. But surely…?

Lupin took a deep breath before answering. “If brewed and applied correctly, it will…reclaim someone.”

“Reclaim as in…?”

“It’ll bring them back,” it was Sirius who spoke before Lupin could, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. “No matter how long they’ve been dead.”

Harry felt his skin start to tingle. “How much…how much did you make?”

“There was only enough asphodel for a dosage for one,” said Lupin.

“Who are you going to bring back?” Harry asked before he could stop himself.

Sirius refused to answer him.

 

 

Sirius’s potion needed to sit for exactly half a day without being touched. Sirius locked the door to his father’s old study and forbade Harry and Lupin from so much as breathing in its general direction. The slightest change in the temperature or humidity of the room—caused by something so simple as walking too fast by the door and sending a gust of air through the crack underneath—could ruin everything. Sirius also still refused to talk about his plans for the finished potion, but Harry couldn’t imagine Sirius using it on anyone other than his father. Hadn’t James been Sirius’s best friend and brother?

Not for the first time, Sirius was in an argument with Kreacher over an item he wanted to throw away.

“It’s _broken_ , Kreacher,” Sirius yelled. “I’m getting rid of it.”

“Master cares for nothing!” Kreacher screamed. Harry threw down his washrag and jogged into the room where the two were arguing. Sirius was holding a dented old Polaroid camera far out of Kreacher’s reach.

“It belongs with the garbage, Kreacher,” Sirius insisted. “Just look at it.”

“That is Master Regulus’s favorite camera!” Kreacher wailed. “Oh—how he carried it with him everywhere, how he loved it, it was Master Regulus’s prized possession, a gift from his brother when he still loved him!”

“I don’t have time for this!” Sirius yelled. “You can’t stage a coup over every object I want to get rid of around here, Kreacher. I’d lock you in the attic if there wasn’t so much junk up there that you’d probably try to hide somewhere.”

“Master Regulus—”

“Don’t talk about Regulus,” Sirius growled. “He’s dead and it’s his own damn fault. What good’s this stupid camera going to do him now?”

Kreacher was in furious tears. “Master knows nothing,” he sobbed.

“Sirius…” Harry said in a placating tone. “Maybe…”

Sirius gave him a hard look. “Regulus was a Death Eater, Harry, he joined when he was sixteen. Mummy and Daddy were probably so proud of their little murderer.”

“What?” Harry gasped. Sirius’s family had never sounded pleasant, but he had not pegged them for followers of Lord Voldemort.

“No really,” Sirius continued. “Perfect little Reggie, Mummy and Daddy’s little pride and joy…got himself killed by Voldemort for screwing up one too many times, or so I’ve learned. He was eighteen, check the tapestry,” he jerked his head in the direction of the drawing room. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Kreacher, I need to get rid of this.”

He started to walk away.

“Master is wrong!” Kreacher yelled after him. “Master knows nothing of how his brother died, he knows nothing of why!”

Sirius ignored him and traipsed off down the hall.

Harry stood there for a while, the silence broken only by Kreacher’s erratic sobs. Through tearing eyes, the elf looked up at him.

“Kreacher knows,” he said pleadingly. “And Kreacher has told no one, but Kreacher will tell Harry Potter!”

“No,” Harry said quickly. He had no interest in hearing Kreacher’s delusional tales. He was worried about Sirius and hustled out after him, leaving Kreacher alone.

“Sirius?” Harry called, but the man was nowhere to be found. Harry walked upstairs to Sirius’s room and knocked on the door. There was no reply, but the door was not latched properly and swung open when met with Harry’s fist.

Harry hovered on the threshold. He had never been in Sirius’s bedroom before

He found himself stepping inside. He wasn’t sure why, what would snooping around his godfather’s bedroom get him? Sirius had already come clean about the potion.

Sirius’s room was more or less what Harry would have expected. Remnants from his teenage years mixed with the subtler tastes of an adult were everywhere. Harry found several photos on the wall that included his father. After getting his fill, he meandered to Sirius’s desk and idly picked up the only standing photo frame in the room.

Harry felt a strange, creeping sensation in his stomach while he stared at the picture. It was the same one Sirius had had the other day, the one of the young boy and the cat. Harry frowned. He’d seen Sirius throw this away. The closer he looked at the child’s face, the more he saw his godfather, but this couldn’t be a photo of Sirius, could it? Perturbed, Harry sat the picture down. The boy and the calico both looked up at him dolefully.

Behind the paperweight was something else of interest: the camera Sirius had kept from Kreacher, the one he’d promised to destroy.

…The one that had belonged to his brother.

So it was Regulus in the photo, Harry decided. The old polaroid seemed newly cleaned, and when Harry opened it, he saw all the film was gone.

It seemed all at once to sink in for Harry that his godfather was about to _bring someone back from the dead._

“SIRIUS!” Harry screamed. He snatched the photo of Regulus and sprinted from the room, yelling for Sirius and Lupin.

He found them in the study, hunkered over Sirius’s potion.

“Harry,” Sirius said, when Harry nearly bowled them over. “What’s the matter, are you okay?”

Harry thrust the photograph into Sirius’s face.

“This,” he hissed. “You removed it from the garbage sack and repaired the glass and everything.”

Sirius blinked. Lupin reached around him and took the picture.

“Is this your brother, Padfoot?”

Sirius snatched the photo by the edge of its frame. “Okay, so I decided to keep _one_ of the family pictures. Sometimes I like to pretend I have a _few_ happy memories.”

“I also found his camera,” Harry continued.

Sirius shook his head in bewilderment. “Harry, what were you doing in my room?”

“That’s not the point,” Harry snapped. “The point is I know you’re planning on using _that thing_ on your dead brother!” he pointed viciously at the potion, at that moment thin and purple.

Sirius said nothing.

“Well?” Harry demanded. He looked to Lupin. “He is, isn’t he?”

“Harry,” Lupin said bracingly. “This potion is so complicated….there’s really no guarantee it’ll even do anything at all.”

“But what if it does?” Harry screeched. “What if you have, right here in this room, a one-use magic death reversal…and you’re going to _waste_ it on a fucking murderer?”

Sirius flinched, but Harry didn’t stop.

“You said it yourself, Sirius, he was a Death Eater. _You_ called him a murderer! Are you really going to give a criminal the second chance at life when there are so many good people you could help! _Like my parents?”_

“You think I didn’t consider James or Lily?” Sirius croaked. Harry quieted briefly to let him speak.

“Of course I did,” Sirius said. “But which one would I choose, Harry? You father was my best friend, but he’d never forgive me for choosing him over Lily. And Lily? She’d hate me if I didn’t save James. And besides…you couldn’t possibly want to live your life with parents only a few years older than you…?”

Harry gave him a confused look.

“The potion, if mixed properly, will bring the person back as they were the instant before they died,” he explained. “That also means it’s a waste to use on anyone who died of sickness or a slow-acting curse, because they would be brought back infected with the same ailment that killed them.”

“Well—just… what about all the other options you have?” Harry sputtered. “Think of all the good people killed by Voldemort, and then tell me you’d rather save the man who was fighting _for_ him!”

“Boy,” Sirius whispered, looking at the ground. Harry was almost taken aback by how dejected his godfather looked.

“What?” Harry said sharply.

“Boy,” Sirius repeated with emphasis. “Regulus was no man. He was a kid, a child…”

“He made his choice,” Harry insisted.

“And so have I,” said Sirius with the sort of conviction that closed a conversation.

Harry remembered Walburga Black’s letter.

“Oh just because your _mom_ tells you that you have to use it on Regulus you’re just going to?” he asked in amazement. “I can’t believe you!”

“Harry, we can talk more about this later when you’ve calmed down,” said Lupin sternly.

“But—”

“No,” said Lupin. He pulled Harry from the room and closed the door. “Let’s leave Sirius be for a while. Don’t forget to add more water in half an hour!” he added, hollering back at Sirius.

Harry stayed the rest of the day in his room. No one called him down for dinner, but he wasn’t hungry anyway. All he could think about was how unfair it was. Could there be no justice in the world at all? How could Sirius do this to him? After all he’d said about Harry’s parents. He’d never once spoken to Harry of Regulus, not until Kreacher had mentioned him. He thought of what he’d heard McGonagall say almost two years ago:

_“You’d have thought Potter and Black were brothers.”_

Harry had thought so too, but evidently he’d been wrong.

Slowly, minute by agonizing minute, the room grew darker and Harry felt himself drifting off into a restless sleep.

Some hours later, Harry was woken by the click of his door opening. He sat bolt upright and squinted in the darkness. “…Sirius?” he whispered. “…Professor?”

“Mister Harry Potter,” came the slightly squeaky reply. Harry flinched, and fumbled for the lights. When the room was fully illuminated, he saw it was Kreacher who had wandered into his room.

“Kreacher?” he asked in disbelief. “What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?”

“Kreacher wanted to speak with Harry Potter,” said Kreacher simply. Harry threw the covers back and got out of bed, making to lead Kreacher to the door.

“Well whatever it is, can’t it wait? I’m tired…”

“No,” Kreacher insisted. “Kreacher cannot talk while Master is awake. Harry Potter should follow Kreacher downstairs.”

Harry looked at him suspiciously. “You’re not leading me off to kill me, are you?” he asked.

Kreacher shook his head, making his ears flap about.

Harry sighed. Sirius had told him Kreacher was hostile and insane, but at the moment he just seemed desperate to talk to someone. Harry supposed Kreacher had warmed up to him because he’d snuck him the photos.

Kreacher led Harry back into the drawing room on the ground floor. Kreacher lit some lights and nudged Harry until his stood again before the grand tapestry.

“What are we doing, Kreacher?” asked Harry.

“Kreacher has been alone a long time,” the elf began sadly. “And now Kreacher wants nothing more than to talk with someone who will listen.”

“Kreacher,” Harry groaned.

Kreacher continued unperturbed. “Kreacher must make sure someone understands what really happened to master Regulus…”

 

 

For the first time since the argument, Harry approached Sirius. The man was sitting in the library, an open book on the table before him, and he was fast asleep.

“Sirius,” Harry prodded him gently. Sirius grunted and slowly woke up.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Hello, Harry.”

“Hi,” Harry whispered. Lupin was out on errands, but both he and the rest of the order—including the whole Weasley family and Hermione—were due to arrive at Grimmauld Place the next day. Harry was running out of time alone with Sirius and this was something he needed to say.

“About the other day…”

Sirius held up a hand. “Don’t,” he said.

“But Sirius, I…”

“You were right, Harry, I was being selfish.”

Harry tilted his head. Sirius sighed.

“I thought that here I had this golden opportunity to fix my own mistakes, that maybe I could bring Regulus back and be a better brother…look out for him, keep him safe, make sure he turned out _right._ The sorts of things I didn’t do for him while he was alive. I was wanting to alleviate my own guilt.” Sirius rubbed at his face wearily. “I’ve blamed myself for Regulus’s choices and death for a long time…mostly because it _was_ my fault. Wanting to try again with this potion…I was only thinking of myself and I’m sorry.”

Harry bit his lip.

“And besides,” laughed Sirius bitterly. “I’ve been doing some more reading. It’s so slow because the translating takes so long…but if I’ve got this section here all right,” he pointed to the open page before him. “Then I need to have the deceased’s body to administer the potion. I guess that seriously narrows my choices, huh?” he laughed sourly. “I don’t have the slightest clue where my own little brother’s body is…”

Sirius flipped the book shut. “Potion’ll be ready by this weekend. Looks exactly how the description says it should…” he looked up at Harry, and Harry was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what I’ll tell you if this thing doesn’t work, Harry.”

“Sirius?” Harry asked in amazement. Sirius nodded.

“You’re going to have to choose, though, I can’t do it. Just know that there’s no wrong answer.”

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He was going to get his way…Sirius was going to resurrect one of his parents…

And then in a flash he remembered his conversation with Kreacher, and why he had come to Sirius in the first place. Harry pleasantly surprised himself with how little time he took to make his decision.

“Sirius I talked with Kreacher earlier.”

Sirius looked at him questioningly.

“And I know exactly where we can find your brother’s body…”

 

 

Sirius wouldn’t let Harry come with him to the cave to retrieve his brother, nor would he allow him to tell the Weasleys, Hermione, or any of the Order members about what they were doing—even Dumbledore. Sirius said there was no point in bringing it up until they were certain it had worked.

Harry imagined there would be a lot of legal paperwork to fill out when Regulus Black magically came back to life, a decade and a half younger than he was supposed to be.

Sirius sneaked Regulus into Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night. Harry was waiting to help him.

“He’s in there?” Harry asked needlessly, indicating the large bundle of cloth in Sirius’s arms.

“Yes,” Sirius whispered. He was whiter than a ghost.

“Bring him upstairs to your bedroom, Padfoot, we don’t want to risk someone stumbling upon him by accident.”

“I thought he’d be bigger…” Harry mused once Sirius was out of earshot.

“Regulus’s body is awfully emaciated. He was also always small to begin with,” Lupin explained. He and Harry followed a good ways behind Sirius.

“Sirius looks awful,” Harry whispered.

Lupin nodded. “Kreacher told you Regulus was dragged under by the inferi?”

Harry nodded.

“Well he became one. He was…animated when we found him. I wasn’t thinking fast enough and…Sirius had to, er, deal with him,” Lupin said quietly.

Harry grimaced. “Poor Sirius,” he lamented. “Professor? This potion isn’t just going to bring Regulus back to the inferi-state he was in before Sirius ‘killed’ him is it?”

“I don’t believe so, his body was merely under a sort of spell, he was not alive when we found him.”

“What about the potion he drank to get the locket? We aren’t going to revive him just to have him die an hour later from the poison, are we?”

Lupin gave Harry a sly look. “I spoke in private with Severus yesterday. I have secured us plenty of antidote to the Dark Lord’s poison. It’s a slow-acting one at that, so we will have plenty of time to get it to him once he’s alive again.”

“So Snape knows?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Lupin replied. “But he has agreed not to speak of it to Dumbledore or anyone else until after we have told everyone.”

Harry couldn’t help but notice that Lupin was speaking a lot more positively about Sirius’s scheme than he had before. He almost brought it up, but they had arrived at Sirius’s bedroom.

Compared to the dark of the rest of the house, the light in Sirius’s room was momentarily blinding.

“Remus can you pull the sheets back for me?” asked Sirius hoarsely. “Harry you can go to bed now.”

“No,” Harry said immediately. “I’m the reason you found him in the first place, I want to be here.”

Sirius didn’t argue with him.

“I have no idea what this is going to be like,” Lupin muttered. “Sirius, I’ll go get the potion.”

“Aren’t you going to unwrap him, Sirius?” Harry asked. He approached his godfather cautiously.

Sirius didn’t look very stable. He was standing at the head of his bed and resting a hand where Harry imagined Regulus’s face would be, beneath the blanket he was cocooned in.

Harry put a hand on Sirius’s arm. “Sirius, maybe you should wait in another room. Professor Lupin and I could…”

“No,” Harry heard Sirius’s voice crack. “I’m the one who killed him…it’s going to be me that brings him back.”

Harry sank into the desk chair and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. “Hey Sirius, what was Regulus like, did he look like you? Was he a Gryffindor, too?”

Sirius laughed a little, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, god no,” he said. “Reg was a Slytherin all the way. Didn’t take the hat ten seconds to shout it out. Little…shit, did he look like me, though. People could tell from a mile away that we were brothers.”

Harry smiled. “Bet they had trouble telling you apart when you were together.”

“We weren’t together much at school,” said Sirius sadly. “Courtesy of me, mostly. I didn’t want to be seen with my dorky little brother.”

“Yeah, Fred and George are like that, too,” Harry said. “Ron’s always complaining about them.”

“This was different,” Sirius insisted. “I was…cruel about it. Harry, I…I don’t think I want to talk about him anymore.”

“Sirius,” Harry asked. “If this works…you know you’re going to have to talk to Regulus about…all of everything and—”

“All right, Sirius, Harry, how are we going to do this?”

Lupin had returned, a small vial in his hand.

“That’s all it made?” Harry asked.

Lupin nodded and held up the vial. The potion had turned a searing, emerald green. “Lot of evaporation during the last phase. Sirius, are you ready? You don’t have to be here, you know.”

“I’m ready,” Sirius said grimly. He gripped the edge of Regulus’s sheet tightly in his fist.

“All right,” said Lupin, gently grabbing Sirius’s hand. “We’re going to have to unwrap him a little now, just enough to get this in his mouth, okay?”

“Yes I know,” Sirius said, but Lupin still had to move his hands for him. Together they pulled the bedding back from the head of the corpse. Harry forced himself to look on out of morbid fascination.

Perhaps he had looked like his brother in life, but in death Regulus Black could barely be called human. He looked like a zombie. His skin was soggy and sunken, bits of it missing. From a gaping hole, Harry could see greying bone, decomposing in an interesting honeycomb pattern. What was left of Regulus’s hair was not the sleek, raven-black-blue from the photo Harry had seen, but rather a dirty, dusky grey color.

Lupin had been right: even from seeing just his face, Harry could tell Regulus was bone thin—and had probably been so in life.

Sirius snatched the vial from his friend and tilted it down Regulus’s throat himself, though Lupin had to steady his hand. The potion hissed and pooled in Regulus’s mouth, unable to slide very far down his throat. A faint mist of smoke curled upwards.

“Does he need to like, swallow it?” Harry asked in desperation. He had the horrific feeling something wasn’t working right.

“No, it just needs to be inside his body, anywhere inside. We could get the same results if we slit open his abdomen and poured it in there, just—” Lupin began but trailed off at the expression on Sirius’s face.

“Is it working?” Harry asked, unable to stop himself. “How long until we know?”

“Shh,” Lupin hissed. “A while, probably. I don’t know, all the texts we found just said ‘with time...’ None were specific.”

Sirius was visibly shaking.

The last of the potion dripped from the vial and Sirius let it fall from his grasp with a clatter. Grimacing, Harry picked it up and threw it away.

“Sirius,” Lupin said after a while when there had been no change in Regulus’s body. “Sirius let’s go to bed. In the morning…we can come and check on him. Here, come on, come sleep in the guest room with me, you shouldn’t stay here.”

“No, Moony,” Sirius insisted, throwing off his friend. “I’m not leaving. You go.”

“You need to sleep, Sirius, it’s been a long day.”

“I’ll sleep here.”

“With a _corpse?_ ”

Sirius gave him a venomous look.

“I mean…with your brother? Sirius, I—”

“You don’t think it will work,” Sirius accused. “But what if it does, Remus? What if it works and he wakes up tonight? Would you have him staggering around the house in confusion and waking everyone up?”

Lupin bit his lip.

“He’s right,” Harry offered. “Someone should stay here for the night…just in case.”

Lupin shut his eyes. “Yes, perhaps you’re right,” he admitted. “Come on, Harry, let’s get you to bed. It’s nearly three in the morning. Sirius set your alarm, okay?”

Lupin pulled Harry from the room.

“Shouldn’t we make sure he actually gets settled down?” Harry asked him once they were in the hallway. “What if he doesn’t sleep at all.”

“Then that’s his choice and he’ll regret it tomorrow.”

“Professor?” Harry asked. “If this doesn’t work…how long do you think Sirius will wait before he gives up…if you don’t know how fast your potion is supposed to work when it’s done right?”

Lupin only shook his head sadly. “I don’t know, I should never have let him do this.”

They stopped outside Harry’s bedroom door. “Do you really think it won’t work?” Harry couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Lupin sighed. “Things that sound too good to be true usually are. I can’t believe this…”

“What if it does work?” Harry pressed.

Lupin gave him a strange look and then clapped a hand onto his shoulder. For the first time in all the excitement, Harry noticed that Lupin was still quite damp from his exploits in the cave.

“Well if it works, Harry,” said Lupin with a bizarre smile. “Then you can say goodbye to being an only child.”

Lupin left him there in the dark. Harry opened his bedroom door, closed it again, and then walked right back to Sirius’s room as soon as he was sure Lupin was out of earshot.

Harry crept into the bedroom carefully. He was surprised to see that Sirius had indeed gone to bed. The lights were off and from the faint moonlight cutting in through the window, Harry could see his godfather’s sleeping form curled up in the bed next to Regulus’s body. Harry grimaced at the faint smell of death and wondered how Sirius could stand to be so close. He supposed that both love and guilt could make people do strange things.

Harry pulled the desk chair over so he could sit in it backwards and face the bed. He lay his head in his arms over the back of the chair and watched for a while. Soon his eyelids started to droop and he fell asleep.

It was the sun that woke him several hours later. A creeping dawn cut in through the gap in the curtains and streaked up the wall. The light splayed over Harry’s eyes but he didn’t open them. He was achingly uncomfortable from having sat in a chair all night, but his exhaustion was winning out. If he could just sleep for a few more minutes…

The creeping rays of sunlight had woken someone else in the room as well, though. First Harry heard a slight shuffling, and then through the pounding in his ears, he could just make out a timid whisper:

“S—Sirius…?”

 

end/part one


	2. Faith is a Fine Invention

Regulus’s eyes were barely open. Through the morning’s bleak haze, he could make out indistinct shapes around him. He was tucked snugly in a bed with someone curled up next to him. A tall someone with soft, black hair and his hand curled tightly around Regulus’s wrist. Regulus could feel the familiar pain of his brother’s old ring dicing into his flesh.

His eyesight slowly cleared. He thought perhaps he was dead, and that his heaven was waking back up in his home, warm and cared for, with Sirius by his side. He looked over his brother’s sleeping shoulder at the photos on the wall. This was definitely Sirius’s room.

“S-Sirius?” he asked softly, hardly daring to believe he’d been good enough in life to receive this in death. “Wake up, I want to know what day it…”

But what Regulus saw could not possibly be his brother. The man lying next to him—who was just beginning to stir and whose fingers were still painfully digging in to Regulus’s wrist—was not Sirius Black! He was too thin, too old, too _different_ , and when he sat up and blinked, at last relinquishing his grip on Regulus, his open eyes were too heavy and haunted.

Regulus screamed and thrashed until he fell off the bed, pulling half the bedding with him. He tried frantically to right himself but found his arms moved sluggishly, and his legs not at all.

His head connected painfully with a chair leg and in a momentary stupor he stared, dazed, into yet another familiar face that just wasn’t quite right. For an instant, he would have sworn the concerned boy looking down at him, mouthing something that Regulus’s ringing ears couldn’t hear, was James Potter. It would make sense for Sirius and James to be together, but that man in the bed wasn’t Sirius and this certainly wasn’t James. Too young this time, and something was wrong around the eyes.

Panting heavily, Regulus began to panic. He was completely tangled up in the blankets and sheets, unable to move. He was an easy target.

“Regulus!?” A voice gasped in disbelief. “ _Reggie?_ ”

Regulus swiveled to face the bed, where the strange man was getting up.

“Regulus!” he kept saying over and over like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Regulus it’s me, calm down!”

The man knelt before Regulus and put a shaking hand on his shoulder. His skin felt warm. He tried to run his fingers through Regulus’s hair, but Regulus, lacking any other means of self-defense, raised his head and bit him.

“Ouch, fuck, what was that?”

“Sirius?” asked the boy. “Sirius surely it didn’t—I mean, did it…work?”

Sirius could only stare on in amazement as Regulus frantically tugged and twisted at the sheets until he had mostly freed himself. There was a dull, burning ache that ran deep down his throat, but he ignored it. He needed to get out of here as quickly as possible. Clearly something had gone wrong with his plan. He had not died in the cave, and had instead been kidnapped by…somebody...and brought to either Grimmauld Place or a very decent replica of it.

But for what purpose? Who would have found him in that cave?

Sirius’s eyes widened when he saw that Regulus was almost on his feet.

“Hold on,” he pulled his brother back to the ground and held him down. “Just calm down for a second, I know this is all a lot to take in…”

“Let me go!” Regulus yelled. “Get off! What do you _want_ from me?” Suddenly something dawned on him. He looked down at his bare chest, noticed that he was completely naked and then started to scream, trying desperately to push Sirius away from him.

Sirius pressed a wad of comforter against Regulus’s mouth to silence him. “Harry,” he begged. “Can you put up a muffling charm or something? Don’t worry, the ministry can’t trace you when you’re surrounded by so many other wizards.”

Sirius looked back down at Regulus, who stared back at him with enormous eyes.

“I’m sorry, Reg, I know this looks really bad and you must be terrified right now,” Sirius lamented. “I just need you to hold still for a minute and listen. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Regulus stilled.

“Good,” said Sirius. “Harry,” he called over his shoulder.

“Yes, Sirius?”

“Get some clothes from my dresser, would you?”

“Everything?” Harry asked, digging around in Sirius’s drawers.

“Yes.”

Harry obliged, handing Sirius a full set of clothes as well as a dark blue robe.

“Here, Reg, put these on. All your original clothing degraded in that lake,” Sirius insisted. Regulus didn’t accept the bundle of clothing, though, he was too busy staring intently at Sirius’s face.

“Sirius?” Regulus whispered in horror. That Harry boy had called him Sirius, but surely it couldn’t be?

“Yeah, it’s me, Reg.”

“You can’t be,” Regulus hissed. “There’s no way you’re my—no way you’re Sirius.”

Sirius smiled crookedly. “But it is me,” he said softly. “And you’re really here, too, Reg I can’t believe it’s you.”

Sirius raised a hand to Regulus’s cheek. Regulus jerked away from him.

“You’re not Sirius, you’re too old,” he said suspiciously.

Sirius looked very sad for a moment. Then he offered Regulus the clothes again. “Here, put these on and then we can talk.”

Regulus accepted the armful of clothing but then merely held on to them and stared expectantly at Sirius and Harry.

“Sorry,” said Harry a minute later when his brain caught up. He turned around to give Regulus some privacy.

Regulus glared meaningfully at Sirius. Sirius blinked.

“You’re my little brother, Reg, I’ve seen you in the buff before. You slept all night three inches away from me! You’re my _brother._ ”

“No, I do not know who you are or why you’ve taken me here,” Regulus said fearfully. “Please turn away. Back up and turn away.”

“I used to take care of you when you were little! Bathe you, dress you, everything! Surely you haven’t anything now that you didn’t then.”

Regulus was shaking again, although this time from both fear _and_ anger.

Someone tapped Sirius gently on the shoulder and a voice murmured. “Just let him have some space for now, Sirius, this is all a lot to take in.”

“Remus?” Sirius asked in confusion. “How did you get in?”

“Harry opened the door for me.”

Sirius shot Harry a look. Harry shrugged sheepishly.

“He knocked,” he offered, averting his eyes. “You were too busy shouting at Regulus to hear.”

“I was coming up to check on you both,” said Lupin. “And I can’t…I can’t say I’m not a little surprised to see that—” he gestured awkwardly at Regulus. “—that this scheme actually worked. Have you given him the antidote yet, Sirius?”

Sirius shot bolt upright. “Shit!” he yelled. He turned frantically to Regulus as if to make sure he wasn’t about to keel over right there. “Oh man, Reg, how are you feeling? You’re okay, right? Can you hold on for just a second? I’m so sorry.”

Regulus leaned away, rubbing at his throat a little. Now that Sirius brought it up, the burn was starting to get stronger, and he was overtaken by the fear that it might increase to the point that it was when he was in the cave. Perhaps this whole ordeal was just one very long hallucination brought about by the Dark Lord’s awful poison?

“Remus quickly, hand it to me!”

“Calm down, Sirius, he’ll be fine. He’d probably have days before the symptoms even got bad again.”

Next moment, Regulus felt Sirius take a firm grasp of his head, pushing a vial to his lips.

Predictably, Regulus screeched and tried to shove him away.

“No, Regulus it’s an antidote, it’s going to help you!” Sirius pleaded. “Please hold still.”

Regulus thrashed. “No!” he cried. “You’re going to knock me out again and I’m going to wake up naked somewhere else! Get off of me!”

“So much for letting Regulus be for a little while,” Harry muttered to Lupin as the two of them watched Sirius struggle on the floor with his brother.

“It was perhaps foolish of us to think it possible,” said Lupin with a sigh as Regulus clawed at Sirius, who slapped his hand harshly. “Sirius is just too excited.”

“They’re going to spill Professor Snape’s antidote,” Harry said.

Lupin directed Harry out into the hall. “I have more downstairs,” he responded. “Now why don’t you come with me to breakfast, Harry, everyone’s waiting for you.”

“When’re we going to tell them about…?”

“After they eat,” said Lupin. “They’ll be sleepy and fat and less able to chase after us.”

 

 

The rest of the Order did not take kindly to the reveal of Regulus. Just as Harry had, they too at first were of the opinion that Regulus did not deserve a second life, and each of them had a list of ten or more people whom Sirius should have revived instead. Harry himself felt a deep shame that he at one point had acted so immaturely.

“Shut up,” he hollered round the table. “The lot of you. It was Sirius’s potion. His mother had the asphodel and she chose to bequeath it to him. It was his decision to make.”

The yammering started up again.

“But he could have chosen better!”

“Why didn’t he consult with us?”

“Why didn’t he go to Dumbledore?”

Harry looked to Dumbledore, who only sat pensively at the end of the table, and then to Sirius, who was looking down in shame.

When neither of them spoke up, Harry blurted out, “Because you’d react like this! I’m telling you, someone would have been angry no matter whom Sirius brought back, seriously, you’re all idiots.”

Even Harry’s friends blanched at that statement.

“Harry…” Ginny began meekly.

“Quiet,” Harry insisted. “What I mean is, look at all of you. You’re so angry and vengeful, you’ve driven Regulus off!”

Suddenly everyone swiveled around, as if on cue, to stare at the seat by Sirius that Regulus had previously occupied. Before anyone could get up to go look for him, Harry pressed on.

“He’s in the drawing room, leave him be. You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. I thought you were all adults, but you’re certainly not behaving like it. As I said, you’re idiots.”

Few people noticed Sirius slip off into the other room, obviously following Regulus.

“Harry,” said Mr. Weasley in a clipped tone. “You need to understand—”

“What I understand is you’re all trying to make this about Regulus when it really isn’t. It’s about Sirius!”

Most of the faces that looked up at Harry—who had long since stood up—were skeptical or confused. Hermione alone looked proud.

“Bringing his little brother back has made him happy, can’t you all see that? It doesn’t _matter_ who or what Regulus was. Sirius is happy for the first time in forever, and all you people want to do is make him miserable and guilty. Do you really think he made this decision lightly? Do you think he owes you all more than he owes himself?”

Nobody had anything to say. George Weasley stared into his drink. Kingsley Shacklebolt was rubbing his chin in thought.

“And besides,” said Harry a tad more quietly. “I don’t know how anyone could look at how Regulus died and not think he deserves a second chance. I’m not sure if you all just weren’t listening earlier or if you somehow think sacrificing his _life_ wasn’t sufficient payment for being confused and manipulated by Voldemort, but either way, the problem is with you. Not with Regulus, and certainly not with Sirius.”

“He was a Death Eater—” Ms. Weasley began.

“He was a child,” this time it was Lupin who spoke. His voice was barely more than a whisper, but he spoke with such vehemence it was chilling. Ms. Weasley stopped talking instantly.

“Regulus never had a chance from the start,” Lupin continued. “He was completely surrounded, at school and in his home, by terrible influences. Voldemort got ahold of him when he was sixteen. The fact that he did the right thing in the end completely of his own accord and with absolutely no outside influences is some sort of miracle. I’d wager he’s a lot better person than any of us.”

“How can you say that?” asked Ron bluntly. “I’d never join You-Know-Who.”

“Because you have friends and family who have constantly taught you otherwise, Ronald,” hissed Hermione. “And if you felt threatened by him or any of his recruiters, you have people to go to who’ll help you. Regulus probably wasn’t so lucky.”

“He could always have gone to Professor Dumbledore,” Ron insisted.

“It is likely he did not trust me,” said Professor Dumbledore quietly, speaking for the first time all morning.

“How could he not trust _you_?” wondered Ron in amazement. Professor Dumbledore chuckled.

“He may not have grown up hearing so many nice things about me as you did.”

At last Ron quieted. Nobody else seemed to have a good argument to voice. After a few minutes of silence, Harry finally sat back down.

“So it’s settled,” said Lupin. “Sirius deserves to have his happiness. Regulus will stay here under his care. He will not leave the house and we will not inform the Ministry until things are more stable.”

The unspoken meaning was evident in Lupin’s words: it wouldn’t do to expose Regulus now, during the war, and have him killed by Voldemort for desertion.

“I doubt we’ll need to inform Sirius of our decision because I think the whole neighborhood heard our shouting,” said Bill with a smile.

“It’s just so strange to think Sirius has a brother. It’ll be like having two Siriuses,” said Ginny.

“Exactly what we need,” said Ms. Weasley sarcastically. “A second Sirius to be short-sighted and reckless.”

Professor Snape snorted in amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Ginny asked.

It was Lupin who answered her.

“Nothing,” he said with a grin. “Just that your mother really doesn’t have to worry about any reckless behavior coming from Regulus. Sirius is going to have him on lockdown.”

Harry smiled at the truth in Lupin’s words. Sirius was so excited that Regulus was alive again. “Regulus’ll be lucky if Sirius lets him sleep in his own room,” Harry added. “You guys didn’t see him this morning when we saw that the potion had worked.”

Lupin was grinning fondly. “Exactly,” he said. “Now if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go check on our two Black brothers.”

The children were sent back upstairs now that breakfast, the announcement about Regulus and the subsequent argument were all over. Professor Dumbledore regrouped everybody, but postponed actually starting the meeting for a few minutes while they waited for Sirius and Lupin to return.

Lupin found Sirius and Regulus sitting together on the couch in the drawing room. Sirius had his arm around Regulus’s shoulders and Regulus, while he still appeared stiff and cold, was at least allowing Sirius to touch him.

The two looked up at Lupin when he entered.

“We’re done fighting now,” Lupin announced. “Most everyone’s gotten over themselves. Your godson really read them the riot act.”

Sirius smiled.

“So if you’ll come back to the kitchen, we’ll start the meeting.”

“Okay,” Sirius agreed. He stood up, pulling Regulus with him. “Reg,” he said. “Go upstairs to your room, okay? I’ll come get you when the meeting is done.”

“Huh?” said Regulus, giving Sirius an incredulous look. “I think I’d rather attend this meeting. After all I’m the one that discovered the Dark Lord’s secret.”

“I know you did,” said Sirius. “And now so does Dumbledore and everyone else. You’ve been very brave but now I don’t want you involved anymore. You just need to lie low. I want you upstairs with the other kids.”

“I am not a kid,” insisted Regulus, spitting out the word ‘kid’ with distaste.

“By Order standards you are,” Lupin said with a wry smile. “You’re actually four months younger than Fred and George, and they’re cooling it upstairs in their room as we speak.”

Regulus stammered a bit before griping, “You’re not the boss of me, Sirius. I may accept that you are my real brother, but you are not my father.”

“I’ve got seventeen years on you now, Reggie, I might as well be.”

Regulus frowned but didn’t argue further. He walked to the kitchen with Sirius and Lupin silently, and then after one last spiteful glare, sauntered up the stairs to his bedroom.

Sirius tapped Lupin on the arm. “Remus,” he said. “I actually think Reggie’s more like four months _older_ than the twins.”

“I know,” Lupin grinned. “But it’ll be a while before he figures that out.”

Regulus climbed up the stairs to the first landing. From down the hall he could hear the muffled voices of the Weasley children, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. It was a very strange feeling that settled in his stomach. He was not accustomed to there being so many people in his home, and certainly not in a room so close to his own bedroom.

Regulus skulked past the spare room that the others were congregated in, wanting to be in his own, but he stopped shortly before entering, his hand frozen over the handle.

What would he find in there? Sirius said that he’d been purging the house, had he made it to Regulus’s bedroom yet? Would there be anything left?

Regulus pushed open his door and resisted the urge to close his eyes like a child.

Everything seemed the same as he’d left it nearly two decades ago, albeit a bit more dusty. Regulus walked across the soft carpet to his bed and grazed his fingers along the sheets, disturbing sixteen years’ worth of dust.

He tore down from his walls the newspaper clippings and press releases. He’d already shoved them all into the fire before the little voice in his head asked him why he was bothering.

He opened his murky closet and dug around behind moth-eaten robes to find his mask. It, too, he threw into the fireplace. As he watched it slowly heat up, he was reminded of all the meetings he’d worn it to, how scared he had been each time, how nervous he’d been that he would finally be called upon to complete an actual assignment, to do more than just sit and watch…

 “Regulus?” came a nervous voice.

Regulus snapped out of his reverie and looked up from the fire. He had not closed the door to his bedroom and one of the kids had come wandering over. It was the girl with red hair. One of the Weasleys, though Regulus didn’t care much to remember which.

“I’m Ginny, remember?” she said, taking a careful step over the threshold. “We were wondering if you wanted to come join us. We’re going to use Fred and George’s (they’re my twin brothers) extendable ears to listen in on the rest of the meeting. We thought you might be interested, since they’re bound to be talking about you…”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. Where exactly did Ginny Weasley get off talking to him like they were fast friends? She was—

Regulus cut himself off. That was his mother talking.

“All right,” said Regulus gruffly. He stood up and followed Ginny back to the others. She looked slightly surprised by his agreement.

One of the identical Weasley boys—he introduced himself as Fred—handed Regulus a long, flesh colored string. Regulus took it carefully, holding it out in mild distaste.

“These things are wicked useful,” said Harry Potter. “Nobody’s ever the wiser.”

Regulus met Harry’s eyes for a moment, curious. Harry had seemed so loyal to Sirius but here he was defying the man.

…the man? When had Sirius become a man? Last Regulus had looked, he was an irresponsible 21 year-old, caught up in his little hero fantasies and flying his motorcycle all over god knows where.

“Here, hold it to your ear like this,” instructed the muggle-born girl, Hermione Granger. “You’ll be able to hear them, clear as a bell.”

Regulus nodded. He put what he hoped was the correct end of the device in his ear and dropped the other over the edge of the steps. It stretched and inched its way under the door to the kitchen. They breached the silencing charm around the kitchen and immediately Regulus’s ears were met with a torrent of discussion.

“—Well at least I haven’t been wasting my time resurrecting Death Eaters.”

“We’ve put that discussion behind us, Molly. Sirius _sit down._ Regulus isn’t going anywhere, and that’s final.”

Regulus wasn’t sure how he felt having Lupin defend him.

“I want him under constant surveillance. My children are in this house.”

“I know that Molly, but Regulus isn’t a threat.”

“He’s—”

Regulus dropped his extendable ear to the ground. “Let me know if they say anything interesting later on,” he said to Harry before trudging sadly back up the stairs. He really had no desire to listen to a middle-aged woman berate him all night. He’d had just about enough of being treated like a stranger in his own home.

None of the others followed him or said anything. They merely resumed their eavesdropping. Regulus returned to his room and lay down on his bed. Several hours later, he heard Sirius open the door and softly say his name.

“Regulus, lunch’ll be ready soon. You didn’t eat breakfast, you have to be hungry.”

Regulus didn’t move.

He felt the sunlight from his window disappear as the shadow of Sirius fell over his face.

“Reggie,” he urged, prodding at Regulus’s shoulder gently. “I know you’re not asleep. Come on, now, get up. You really need to eat, you’re a walking skeleton.”

Regulus tried to make his breathing even.

He could almost feel Sirius rolling his eyes. “You’re not fooling me with this, Reg, I know you’re awake.”

Sirius took ahold of Regulus by his sleeve and heaved him into a sitting position. Regulus finally relented and opened his eyes, immediately sighing and looking down.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sirius. Regulus gave him such a look he actually blanched.

“All right, stupid question, I’ll admit,” Sirius sat down next to his brother. “Come on, though, Reg, talk to me, please.”

“I don’t want to go down there,” Regulus said sullenly.

“And why not?” Sirius asked in a tone that reminded Regulus heavily of their father. Regulus actually shivered a little.

“Your friends’ hostility makes me uncomfortable.”

Sirius’s hand was hovering in between himself and Regulus, as though he couldn’t quite decide whether or not he could get away with touching his brother at this point in their revived relationship.

“I understand,” Sirius said. “I can bring you something to eat in here?”

Regulus hissed through clenched teeth, “This is _my_ house. _They_ should leave.”

“I get that you’re frustrated, Regulus, but you have to understand—”

“I have to understand?” Regulus demanded. “Well I don’t understand! I don’t understand anything—not where I am or who you are!”

“Regulus,” Sirius said desperately. “I’m Sirius, you have to believe me…you said you did believe me!”

Regulus shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you certainly aren’t any brother of mine! The Sirius I know would never have wasted a resurrection potion on me! He’d’ve revived James Potter. The two of them would probably be drinking right about now.”

Regulus stood up and tried to walk away, but Sirius grabbed him by the wrist.

“Of course I considered James, but I couldn’t bring back him and not Lily, he’d have never forgiven me! Surely—”

Sirius trailed off at the outraged look on Regulus’s face.

“Regulus, what I meant was…”

“Oh, well I’m glad you would think to be so considerate of your dead best friend’s feelings. Good to know I was your option number three…or were there others you considered before me?”

“No, Regulus,” Sirius felt his brother pull from his grasp and leave the room. Sirius heard his footsteps echo off down the hall and then trudge up the stairs at the edge of the landing.

Sirius sat in silence for a second before what had just occurred sank in. He then sprang to his feet and dashed out into the hall where he collided with Lupin.

“Ouch,” Sirius picked himself up off the floor. “Solid as ever, I see, Moony.”

Lupin helped steady him. “What’re you running around for, Sirius?”

Sirius sighed. “Chasing after Reggie, what else?”

“Chasing? Where exactly is he going?” Lupin asked.

Sirius shrugged. “I guess not anywhere, I was just…”

“Frantic,” Lupin finished for him. “You were unsteady all through the meeting as well. Sirius, just relax. Things can’t go on like this forever, Regulus will come around to you eventually and it’ll all work out.”

Sirius bit his lip. “I’m not so sure. Remus, he’s so upset.”

“What happened?” Lupin asked.

Sirius explained with a sigh. “He was skeptical of my intentions, said that the brother he knew would’ve left him dead in a heartbeat to save someone better. I kind of spoke without thinking, told him about how I’d considered Lily and James and why I ultimately decided against them, and then, well…”

Lupin grimaced. “Smooth thinking, Sirius,” he said sarcastically.

Sirius looked at him dejectedly. “You’re supposed to be helping me feel better,” he whined.

“I was planning on it, but that was before you told me how badly you cocked up Listen, Sirius,” Lupin clapped a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll still come ‘round, believe me.”

“And just how do you think you know that?”

Lupin smiled and pointed behind Sirius, towards the open door to Regulus’s bedroom.

“Why don’t you take a closer look in there? I have a suspicion.”

They stepped into Regulus’s room. Lupin pointed at the smoldering remains in the fire. For the first time, Sirius noticed that it was still hot and smoking. Sirius kneeled in front of the grate and poked at the remains with his wand. There was a lot of ash, a few remaining paper scraps and also something metallic, once flat and ornate but now burned and warped.

“Regulus’s mask,” said Lupin plainly. “’And judging by the marks on the walls, quite a few papers that were once tacked up.”

Sirius ran his hand through the ashes. “Why would he go through all the trouble?”

“He didn’t want you to see, Sirius.”

Sirius blinked. “You think so?”

Lupin nodded. “Yes, I really do. Give him a little while to cool off, Sirius, and then try bringing him something to eat. We really can’t let him go much longer without food. Some extra vitamins or electrolytes wouldn’t go amiss, either. He’s going to get sick.”

“You’re right,” Sirius agreed. A knot twisted in his belly when he thought about Regulus’s taut skin and jagged limbs. “God, I can’t believe I let him refuse to eat breakfast. And to think I thought that this time around I’d take good care of him! Look how I’m doing so far,” he added bitterly.

“You’re just a little overwhelmed. Going from completely carefree to tied down with two teenagers overnight will do that to a person,” Lupin joked. “Let’s go downstairs now, we can set a plate of food warming for Regulus.”

 

 

Sirius did just that. He gave Regulus almost three hours before he joined him in the attic, carrying a full dinner plate.

Regulus was nestled in a musty blanket, leaning against a crate beneath the window. He didn’t react to Sirius’s presence.

Sirius approached him cautiously. “Whatcha’ got there, Reg?” he asked.

Regulus looked up from the photo frame in his lap. “Nothing, Sirius,” he muttered. “Go back downstairs.”

Sirius gritted his teeth. “No,” he said firmly. “Regulus, I’ve brought you some food, and I won’t leave you be until you eat at least some of it. Remus has Snape making you some supplemental potions as well.”

“I’m not hungry,” Regulus said hoarsely.

Sirius hissed in frustration. He sat down with his brother and set the tray in front of him.

“I don’t care, Regulus. Look at you, you’re skinnier than when we found you. You need to eat something. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, starving yourself…”

Regulus pushed the tray of food a few feet away with the toe of his boot, and then went back to staring mournfully at the picture in his hands.

“Regulus,” Sirius scolded. “Eat.”

Regulus turned his gaunt eyes to Sirius and said simply, “No.”

Sirius glared at him. “Regulus, I’m asking you one more time to cooperate. I’d rather not have to make you.”

“Go ahead,” Regulus said. “Hurt me.”

Enough light was shining through the row of attic windows behind them that Sirius could make out his brother’s stubborn expression amongst all the dust motes floating through the air. Sirius’s fleeting urge to smack Regulus’s insolent face was pulverized the instant he took in how emaciated it was. Regulus’s eyes sat in deep hollows, his cheekbones, which had always been fine, were now more pronounced than ever, and his skin was deathly pale.

Then Regulus’s taut face split into a smug grin. He leaned back against the storage boxes. “What’s stalling you? Aren’t you going to punish me?”

Sirius started at these words. “I’m not…I’m not _Father,_ ” he stuttered.

“Oh,” said Regulus lightly. “The way you were talking, I thought you were.”

“Regulus, I just meant that—”

“You’re not my brother anymore, Sirius,” said Regulus in a distant voice.

Sirius’s expression softened. “No, Reggie…” He started to reach out but stopped because Regulus was leaning away from his approaching hand. Instead he settled for scooting a little closer to his brother looking straight into his eyes. “You’re backwards. I wasn’t there for you back then, but I’m ready to be your brother _now…_ ”

“Oh, okay,” said Regulus. “So long as it’s convenient timing for you…”

Sirius hung his head.

Regulus’s grip tightened drastically on his picture. “You’re not the same Sirius,” he muttered, almost to himself. “But at least you’re here…”

Sirius looked up again and for the first time noticed his brother was cradling an old family photo.

“I thought I threw that away,” Sirius whispered.

“Your godson stole it and gave it to Kreacher,” Regulus explained. “He let me see it.”

Sirius nodded. That sounded like something Harry would have done. He leaned in to better see the picture and snorted.

“Look at that smile of yours. You have to be missing half your teeth!”

Regulus shot him a glare. “At least when my new teeth grew in they were straight. Father didn’t have to tie _me_ down and realign them magically.”

Sirius automatically raised a hand to his mouth as unkind memories came flooding back to him.

Regulus looked down again. “They were alive, Sirius. Just yesterday they were both here. Yesterday for me, I mean…”

Sirius could stand it no longer. He pulled Regulus out of his moth-eaten blankets and into his lap. He held Regulus tight against his chest.

Sirius felt very little over the passing of his parents. Somewhere in his heart he mourned the loss of the idea of a mother and a father, but Orion and Walburga were not people he felt inclined to cry for.

Seeing his brother closer to tears than he’d seen him since before they’d started school, however, tugged at his heart. For all their flaws, Mr. and Ms. Black had been parents to Regulus. They had been his protectors and the anchors around which his sense of normalcy revolved. Now they were gone, and he’d been thrust into a strange surrounding, different but eerily similar.

Thinking that now was the time he might as well press his luck, Sirius kissed his brother’s temple. Regulus didn’t react.

“It’ll all be okay, Regulus,” he promised. “We’ll keep you here. It’s a safe house; no one can get you here. You’ll stay here until that lunatic is dead, and then we’ll see about starting over.”

Regulus pulled away and looked solemnly up at him.

“I’m to just…sit in here and wait out the war?” he asked curiously.

“Yes,” Sirius insisted. “And Harry’s moving in. I’ll get my shit figured out about just how much of a father I should be for you two, and how much of a brother. And then we can be a proper family.”

“Not if you’re dead, we won’t,” Regulus quipped.

Sirius blinked. “I’m not going to die, Reggie. Dumbledore never lets me leave this place.”

“He will once Voldemort’s existence is made public knowledge and you’re no longer a fugitive.”

Sirius tilted his head. “Regulus…” he said slowly. “You know you’d be taken care of. The Order—”

“Would throw me in jail or out in the streets to be killed by my master in a heartbeat if you weren’t here,” Regulus said. “They’ve gotten their information out of me, I’m of no further use to any of them.”

Sirius heard the conviction in Regulus’s voice and knew he could not convince his brother otherwise. He took Regulus’s chin in his hand. “All right, then. I’m not going anywhere, Regulus,” he said clearly. “I won’t leave you—Regulus, listen to me. Every morning when you wake up, I will still be here. I will not leave you like Mother and Father, I promise. Even after my name is cleared, I’ll stay right here.”

Regulus was forlorn. “Since when have you ever kept your promises to me?”

“Since my mistakes made me lose you. I may be irresponsible, Regulus, but I am not stupid. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I suppose I have to believe you, don’t I?” Regulus mused. “I have no one else, and most everyone in this house would garret me in my sleep if you weren’t standing in their way.”

Sirius ruffled Regulus’s hair. His hand came away grungy and he made a mental note to give Regulus a serious bath…see if he couldn’t get that shiny, raven-blue-black to come back out to play.

Sirius lifted a dinner roll off the plate on the floor and presented it to Regulus.

“You’re goddam right I’m all you have. Now how about you lose the teenage attitude and start eating,” he added light-heartedly. “Before I grab ahold of you and smack you.”

“You can’t do that, you’re my brother!”

Sirius grinned evilly. “The two-decade age gap and your general disobedience would suggest that I’m your father.”

Regulus shot him an alarmed look. “You said you were going to figure out a proper balance!”

Sirius slipped the bread into his brother’s hand. Regulus frantically took a bite.

Sirius kissed Regulus’s forehead and put an arm around him.

“I like to start my bidding off high…”

 

_Signed/tenrousei-kuroi_


	3. I'd Rather Call Him 'Star'

_Mid-December, 1995_

Regulus felt the bedroom door slam before he heard it. The shudder it blasted through the room set all his muscles tingling. Groggy, he prized his eyes open and blinked furiously in the darkness.

“Wha—?”

Suddenly he was gripped with fear and he hastened to the foot of his bed to flip on the light, but the switch was not where it was supposed to be. Panicking, he leaned off the edge of the bed, aiming to grasp the door handle and try to let in some light from the hallway. His bedroom door, it seemed, was also not in its proper place and Regulus lost his balance and tumbled onto the floor.

“Merlin, boy, calm down before you hurt yourself,” an irritated voice barked down at him.

“G—Granddad?” Regulus slid his hands along the fraying wallpaper until he finally located the light switch exactly one wall over from where it should be—or where it _would_ have been if he were in his own bedroom.

“For Christ’s sake, Regulus Artcturus, stop writhing around on the wall and sit down,” the portrait of Phineas Nigellus said with more than a hint of superciliousness.

“What the _fuck_ am I doing in here?” Regulus demanded. This was Sirius’s room, and it had probably been Sirius who’d slammed the door a moment ago as well. This realization both calmed and infuriated Regulus.

“I was going to ask your dear elder brother the same thing,” said Phineas Nigellus smoothly, and something in his voice made Regulus blush furiously. “But he’s a bit preoccupied with other matters at the moment.”

Regulus racked his brains for a moment before swearing again.

His great-great-grandfather scolded him immediately but Regulus paid him no mind.

“I fell asleep in the library…that bastard must have brought me in here,” Regulus muttered. Miffed, he threw on a shirt and headed out into the hall, aiming to confront his brother and—if need be— _beat_ into him the fact that Regulus did not enjoy waking up in Sirius’s bed any more now than he had five months ago when Sirius had first resurrected him.

“Regulus, come back here—!” Phineas Nigellus began, but Regulus closed the door fiercely in his face and ran off down the hallway. He had never obeyed Phineas’s portrait when he’d been a child, either.

On the stairs, however, Regulus slowed then began to walk quietly; he could hear voices.

“Because we don’t want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having these kinds of visions! Do you have any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?”

Sirius sounded incredibly frustrated. Regulus inched down a few stairs as one of the identical Weasleys started screaming at his brother.

So Harry Potter had had another vision? Despite Sirius’s best efforts, Regulus had heard his fair share of Order information. By the sound of things, Arthur Weasley was in the hospital. Regulus took a deep breath and peered around the staircase. Both Weasley twins, the daughter Weasley, and the tall Weasley that was Harry Potter’s friend were all congregated in the kitchen. Harry was standing off to the side, looking ill.

“This is why you aren’t in the Order. You don’t understand; there are things worth dying for!”

“Easy for you to say,” snapped one of the twins harshly. “Don’t see you out there risking your neck!”

Regulus felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He glanced briefly at his brother’s face, which was quite ashen, before striding forward.

The girl Weasley—Ginny?—noticed him first and let out a small squeak. Harry looked up from the corner of the room just in time to see Regulus Black grab ahold of Fred Weasley by the collar of his nightshirt and punch him in the face so hard his eyes crossed.

Everyone screamed at once. Fred was on his feet again within seconds, wiping blood from his nose.

“Regulus!” Sirius yelled. He took hold of his brother but in all the commotion, Regulus managed to slip free. He dove at Fred and soon the two of them were on the floor.

“Get off of me, you bloody maniac!” Fred hollered. He tried to fight back against Regulus, who was punching every inch of him he could reach, but the former death eater had the advantage of adrenaline and Fred just couldn’t get the upper hand.

Sirius was frozen in place, staring at his little brother in abject amazement and for an instant, everyone stood around Fred and Regulus in a loose circle, watching. Finally, Harry darted forward and nudged his godfather in the back.

“Do something, Sirius,” he urged, because George and Ron were getting ahold of themselves and Harry didn’t like the thought of what might happen if they got ahold of Regulus before Sirius did.

Sirius lifted his brother off Fred. “That’s enough!” he roared. Regulus didn’t seem to hear him.

“What is wrong with you?” George demanded. He surged towards Regulus, but Sirius held out a hand to keep him at arm’s length.

“Me?” Regulus screeched. “Who do you think _you_ are?”

“Our dad is in the hospital,” Fred hissed. Ginny was kneeling next to him on the floor, stemming the bloodflow from his nose with her sleeve.

“I don’t give a fuck about your dad,” Regulus countered. “It doesn’t mean you get to ruin my life as well!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ron screamed. Harry grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from pouncing on Regulus.

“Everybody calm down!” Ginny yelled, standing up. She was pointing dramatically over Sirius’s shoulder. “It’s Dumbledore’s bird.”

Fred clambered up beside her. “Damn psychopath broke my nose!”

“Oh, you’re fine,” Ginny hissed. “Sirius, read Fawkes’s letter.”

But Sirius handed the letter to George aloud, “ _Dad’s alive. On my way to the hospital. Stay put and I’ll contact you as soon as we know anything.”_

“Maybe we all ought to sit down,” Ron said heavily. He glanced sideways at Regulus, who was still pinned tightly to Sirius’s side. Sirius nodded and they all began to sit down.

“Fred, would you like me to—?”

“I’ve got it,” George muttered, taking out his wand and patching up Fred’s face.

Harry sat down next to Sirius. There was a thick silence that hung in the air. Sirius got up at one point and brought them all drinks.

“Tell me what you saw, Harry,” Ginny asked after a while.  Her voice cracked the silence like a hammer on ice.

Harry swallowed uncomfortably. “I don’t know, really,” he managed to croak. “I was asleep and just dreaming, something completely normal and mundane. Then the dream, like, changed. It got more lucid and much clearer. Then next thing I knew, I was a snake. I slithered along this long hallway and came across your dad. I woke up as soon as I reared back to attack. It was Ron who woke me up, actually. I shouted at him for awhile and then McGonagall showed up and now we’re here…”

“You knew your dream was real?” asked George.

Harry nodded. “Like I said, it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like a vision. It was frightening, it was like I _was_ the snake. Like I attacked Mr. Weasley,” Harry directed the last sentence more to Sirius, who didn’t respond.

Regulus could tell Harry was worrying, fixating almost. When no one else offered any words, he started to speak up.

“You had nothing to do with it,” he said softly. “The Dark Lord—“

“Shut up,” Ron said harshly. Regulus shot him an indignant look but before he could retort, Sirius put a hand to his shoulder.

“Shush,” he said firmly and the group lapsed back into silence again.

It took almost another hour before Ms. Weasley came bustling through the door. Everyone’s heads snapped up and within an instant, the tired but cheerful look on her face told them all they needed to know.

“Arthur’s stable,” she explained, hugging each of her children in turn before grabbing ahold of Harry and thanking him.

“When can we see him?” asked Ginny eagerly.

“Bill’s with him now. I figured we could all stop by this afternoon.”

Harry slid away from Ms. Weasley and helped Sirius lay out some breakfast.

“Where’s Regulus?” he asked, taking plates out of the dresser.

Sirius glanced around the kitchen then sighed. “Must’ve slipped off. I swear I don’t know what got into him earlier…”

“I think everyone was a little high-strung. Sirius, listen, about what I was telling you guys…like during my vision?” Harry trailed off, unsure of how to continue. Ms. Weasley chose that moment to join them at the stovetop and busy herself about with helping cook.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Harry, don’t worry,” Sirius said out of the side of his mouth, not eager to bring Ms. Weasley into the conversation. Harry’s shoulders slumped and he went to fetch glasses. Sirius might as well have told him not to breath. How did anyone expect him to just toss everything out of his mind? He had _attacked Mr. Weasley._

“Dumbledore’s sent a letter to Hermione,” Ms. Weasley explained while they all sat scarfing down bacon and eggs a few minutes later. “It’s completely up to her of course, but I think she’ll likely want to come back here for the holidays.”

“The more the merrier,” Sirius said earnestly. “What’re you doing, Harry?”

Harry was dishing up a second plate and filling another glass with orange juice. “Bringing some breakfast to Regulus,” he explained. “He sort of doesn’t eat unless someone reminds him.”

“Oh, shit,” Sirius exclaimed. “Yeah, I just…I’ll do it, Harry,” he offered.

Harry shook his head. “S’fine,” he insisted. “I’ll be right back, guys.”

“Yes,” said Ms. Weasley carefully as she watched Harry’s retreating back. “Where is Regulus?”

“Asleep, I hope,” Ginny said to her mother. Everyone raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?” she replied indignantly. “He had crazy bags under his eyes when he was down here earlier, didn’t you lot notice? He and Fred got into a little fight,” she added, turning back to her mother.

Ms. Weasley’s eyes widened. “What?” she gasped. “What did he do?”

“Nothing Fred didn’t sort of deserve,” Ginny admitted. “Anyway, everyone’s all patched up now. I think we were all just tense because we were worried.”

Ms. Weasley nodded once. When neither of the twins nor Ron offered any more on the subject, Sirius let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Meanwhile, Harry found Regulus in Orion Black’s old study.

“Hi, Regulus,” he said as he swung open the door. Regulus swiveled around in his chair to look at him. “I brought you some breakfast.” Harry offered the tray.

Regulus took it gratefully. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. While he cared little for anyone else in the house—Order member or teenager—he had developed a growing fondness of Harry Potter.

“So, er, is this your dad’s workroom?” Harry asked. Regulus raised an eyebrow at him and Harry shifted uncomfortably, hoping he hadn’t asked too personal a question.

“I think my mother took care of more paperwork in here than my father ever did,” Regulus finally said with a bitter laugh. “Mr. Potter?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“You had nothing to do with the attack on the redheads’ father. You clearly share a connection with the Dark Lord and are therefore sometimes privy to what he is doing.”

Regulus turned back to his food as though he had nothing more to say about the matter.

“But…but,” Harry stammered. “I was a _snake._ ”

Regulus snorted into his orange juice. “Mr. Potter, the Dark Lord was clearly possessing the snake at the time,” he said simply.

“Oh,” Harry murmured. “I was…for a while there I was horrified that I’d somehow, I don’t know…”

“You were panicking that you were possessed by the Dark Lord and somehow He forced you to attack you friends’ father.”

“Yes,” Harry whispered. “So you’re saying I don’t have to worry…?”

“Exactly,” Regulus said, splitting his bacon slices neatly into chunks with the side of his fork. “Well,” he amended. “I suppose there are a number of ways this could go badly, though I doubt the Order will allow that to happen.”

Harry bit his lip. “What do you mean? What might happen?”

“I’m not sure,” Regulus admitted. “But I _am sure_ that Dumbledore’ll probably have you studying Occlumency by the end of the week.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, sounding apprehensive.

But Regulus didn’t seem interested in continuing their conversation. He sighed heavily and slumped in his father’s desk chair. Harry sat down in the spare chair against the wall. Regulus only groaned.

“So how much longer before the angry mudblood-lover has me carted off to Azkaban for attacking her son?” he asked miserably. Harry didn’t take Regulus’s use of the word ‘mudblood’ too seriously. It seemed like a vestige of Regulus’s previous life—an incidental slip of the tongue and not much more.

“Actually everyone’s pretty much over it,” Harry answered. “I don’t think you have to worry. Ginny made it sound like it was no big deal and Ms. Weasley was too excited about Mr. Weasley pulling through to be very upset. I’d lay low around her for a while, though.”

When Regulus didn’t seem cheered up, Harry frowned. “And Sirius would never let you get locked up in Azkaban,” he added vehemently.

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“No, seriously,” Harry insisted. “He spent twelve years there, Regulus. And he was a mess when he got out. There’s no way he’d let you end up there.”

“Maybe,” Regulus conceded. “But Sirius might not always be here to protect me.”

Harry blinked. “Of course he will,” he said sincerely. “Regulus, listen, I’ve been thinking…you’re sort of in on all the Order meetings, right?”

Regulus’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sirius keeps me far from them, actually.”

It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. “So like I was saying, you’ve been listening in on most of the Order meetings, right?”

Regulus smirked.

“Have you heard them talk at all about a sort of…’weapon’?” Harry continued.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘weapon’?”

Harry threw his gaze to the ceiling. “It’s been bothering me all semester. I just can’t get it out of my head. Sirius mentioned something to me earlier this summer about how Voldemort was after a kind of ‘weapon’ he could only get by stealth. And I know it’s somewhere within the Ministry’s Department of Mysteries.”

“How do you know that?”

Harry bit his lip. “This vision tonight, the one with Mr. Weasley and the snake? It wasn’t my first one. I’ve been dreaming about trying to get through the department’s locked door for months.”

Regulus leaned forward. “Okay, I’m intrigued,” he admitted. “Where are you going with this?”

“I want to know what it is.”

Regulus scoffed. “It’s obviously a distraction, nothing more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there are Order members who work in the Department of Mysteries. They could have easily destroyed or stolen this ‘weapon’ by now if that had really been prudent. Instead I think they just want to keep the Dark Lord busy hunting for it while they get their act together.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re really smart, Reg,” he said, slipping the nickname in with some praise to see if he could get away with using it.

Regulus gave him a curious look but otherwise didn’t seem to mind. “I wasn’t the Dark Lord’s youngest servicemember _only_ for my looks.”

“Just mostly,” Harry sniggered. Regulus threw his fork at him. “Hey, it was a compliment!” Harry insisted, smartly dodging the eating utensil. They both laughed.

“No seriously, though,” said Harry after he’d calmed down. “I’d like your help.”

“With what?” Regulus asked.

“Run recon for us,” Harry suggested. “Let us know what’s going on at all these meetings.”

“And why should I risk my brother’s wrath to abate your curiosity?”

“Because I feel that I at least deserve to know,” Harry said fiercely. “I mean, they’re talking about me roughly ninety percent of the time anyway.”

“Fair point,” Regulus shrugged. Before he could give Harry a straight answer, though, Sirius burst unceremoniously through the doorway.

“There you two are,” he said breathlessly. “Harry.” He looked to his godson. “Hermione’s just arrived.”

“That was incredibly fast,” Harry muttered, standing up.

“She came over on the floo network as soon as she got word of what happened. She’ll be here for Christmas as well, you should go see her,” Sirius said. Then he turned to Regulus with a look on his face as though readying himself for an unpleasant conversation. “And you I need to talk to for a moment.”

Harry gave Regulus a sympathetic look as he slipped behind Sirius’s back and out the door. They thought he was on his way back to the kitchen, but he actually stayed just outside in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Hermione was his best friend, but talking to her was going to have to wait. He was much more curious about what Sirius was going to say or do to Regulus, who was fast becoming a friend and ally of Harry’s.

“Oh, Sirius, what’s got your knickers in a twist this time?” asked Regulus in what was clearly supposed to be a bored tone.

Sirius folded his arms. “You attacking Fred earlier, that’s what,” he said angrily. “Regulus what is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Regulus demanded, dropping his flippant tone at once. “How many times do I have to say it? There’s nothing wrong with me, it’s everyone else!”

“Regulus,” Sirius hissed. “You can’t just attack people! Really, what came over you? You could have seriously hurt him!”

“I wish I had,” Regulus said coldly.

From the hall, Harry heard a loud smack. He immediately jerked away from the wall and leaned into the doorframe to see what had happened. Regulus was on the floor before Sirius, knees sinking into the plush carpet and hands cradling the side of his face.

“How can you even say that?” Sirius growled menacingly. “You’re _not_ that kind of person, Regulus. You’d _better not_ be that kind of person. I did not bring you back only to have you slip back into being the same conceited, violent little megalomaniac you thought you needed to be when you were sixteen.”

Regulus said nothing. He only staggered to his feet, breathing harshly.

“Do you realize how lucky you are that in all the commotion the Weasleys chose not to make a big deal out of it? People have a hard enough time trusting you as it is, Regulus. What on earth could have possessed you to go and make that _worse?”_

Regulus only sneered at his brother. “He deserved it,” he insisted. “He could have ruined everything and I would’ve been in Azkaban by next week anyway!”

It might have been the sheer incoherence of what Regulus had just said, but Sirius almost wasn’t fast enough to stop Regulus from slipping past him and out the door. He only just caught hold of him by the tail end of the sleeve of his robes.

“Regulus, I fully expect you to apologize for what you did last night. To Fred and to his family,” he said using what Harry assumed was all his energy to appear calm.

“No _fucking_ way,” Regulus snarled. Sirius’s jaw dropped and he raised his hand again, seemingly out of reflex, but Regulus managed to jerk free before Sirius could strike him again. He sprinted straight past Harry without seeing him and disappeared up the stairs.

Sirius stood frozen in shock.

“I can’t believe you hit him!” Harry yelled. Sirius blinked and looked down at him, surprised.

“Harry?” he asked. “What’re you doing here?”

“Well eavesdropping on you, obviously,” Harry said. “Sirius you shouldn’t have done that!”

Sirius sighed. “Harry…”

“No, really Sirius, that was…mean,” Harry said loudly. He was at a slight loss for words but he truly felt Sirius had been out of line. “How could you treat him like that?”

“All right! I lost my temper with him, that doesn’t mean I don’t love him,” Sirius said emphatically.

Harry felt his hands ball into fists. “Where do you get off hitting him?”

Sirius rubbed at his eyes. “Listen, Harry, Regulus will be fine, okay? I didn’t hurt him.”

Harry ground his teeth together and waited until Sirius was just starting to think their uncomfortable conversation was about to evaporate away to ask, “Really? Sirius, would you ever strike me?”

“Of course not,” Sirius answered immediately. “I’m your godfather, Reg is my…”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Regulus is my brother, I’m entitled to be a little more rough with him. Especially when he behaves like a maniac!”

“He’s not a maniac!” Harry snapped. “I’m sure he had an understandable reason to attack Fred.”

Sirius looked shocked that Harry would speak to him like he knew Regulus better than Sirius did. “And what reason could there possibly be?”

“I don’t know,” Harry sputtered. “But he’s certainly never going to tell you now! Why did you have to hit him?”

“ _I don’t know_!” Sirius screamed. He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’ll go talk to him later,” he promised.

“If you’re referring to Regulus, Sirius, I’d advise you go talk to him _now._ ”

Harry and Sirius both swiveled to face the doorway.

“Professor Lupin?” Harry asked timidly. “When did you get here? Oh god, could everyone hear us?”

Lupin shook his head and stepped into the study. “Just now. Dumbledore’s phoenix arrived at my house with the most interesting letter. I was on my way down here looking for Sirius actually. Regulus went dashing past me looking distraught. Sirius, go fix whatever you did.”

Sirius glared at him. “Regulus is behaving like a brat. He completely lost his mind earlier and attacked Fred Weasley, too. I don’t appreciate being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“Why did Regulus attack Fred?” Lupin asked.

“We don’t know,” said Harry and Sirius together.

“I thought maybe because Fred was kind of taunting Sirius,” Harry said. “Calling him a coward for not being in danger all the time like Mr. Weasley is…maybe Regulus didn’t like that.”

Sirius scoffed. “I don’t think Regulus was _ever_ loyal enough to me that he would punch someone for saying mean things to me—ouch! Moony what _was_ that for?”

Lupin lowered his wand and rolled his eyes. Sirius was rubbing at his shoulder.

“He doesn’t want you to die, idiot.”

Sirius tilted his head in question.

Lupin sighed and went on. “You did promise him that you would stay here with him, no? Like in this house. You told him you wouldn’t join in any of the actual fighting even after your name was cleared.”

“Yes,” Sirius admitted. “Because he was panicking and seemed convinced I was going to get murdered and leave him all alone and that you lot were going to pitch him to the dementors the moment I was…gone…oh…”

“Oh…” said Harry.

“Right,” said Lupin. “If Fred was trying to make Sirius feel guilty for remaining safe here at Grimmauld Place, then Regulus probably saw that as a very serious threat. Sirius, did you really hit your brother?”

Sirius groaned.

“Go, Sirius,” said Lupin, pointing over his shoulder. “I think Regulus is in his bedroom…”

Sirius swallowed and nodded. He darted past Harry and out the door, looking frantic. When his footsteps had faded off, Harry approached Lupin.

“Professor?” he asked. “Sirius doesn’t have much of a clue what he’s doing, does he?”

Lupin sighed, but there was a tired smile on his face. “You know, Sirius was barely twenty-two when he was arrested, Harry.”

Harry tilted his head. He briefly did the math in his head. “Yes…so?”

“Well,” said Lupin, sitting down in Regulus’s vacated chair. “When people are incarcerated that young, they don’t really have a chance to mature. The age you go into Azkaban is the age you come out.”

“So you’re saying Sirius is still mentally twenty-two?”

“Yes,” Lupin said. “He’s got the mind of a twenty-two-year-old, and he’s found himself in a position where being _thirty_ -three seems more appropriate. He’s got two kids now…two kids with a lot of baggage,” he added, smirking good-naturedly at Harry, who was blushing.

“I’m not that bad. Sirius doesn’t have to like, take care of me or anything, just Reg.”

Lupin barked out a laugh. “So let me get this straight…you, the fifteen-year-old domestic abuse victim with a mass murderer out for your blood are completely without a need for guidance? And it’s only Regulus who needs a parent?”

Harry shuffled his feet. “I can take care of myself. Reg is…”

“You’ve both got quite the habit of not thinking before you act, actually,” Lupin pointed out.

Harry pouted.

“And it gets you in quite a lot of trouble.”

“Okay, I get it,” Harry said quickly before Lupin could keep talking.

Lupin chuckled. “Anyway, Sirius’s heart is in the right place. He wants so badly to be good to you two, but it’s going to be some trial and error. Even—oh, Sirius.”

Harry looked up and saw his godfather trudge back into the room and collapse into a chair.

“Sirius, what happened?” Harry asked in concern. Sirius’s right eye was starting to swell and blacken.

“Regulus didn’t want to talk to me,” he said grimly.

“Did he punch you?” Harry asked in amazement. Sirius nodded dully.

“And what did you do, Sirius?” Lupin asked suspiciously.

“Nothing!” Sirius seethed. “I’m just going to leave him be for awhile; although I wanted to throttle him, believe me.”

“Ah, brotherly love,” said Lupin fondly. “Give Regulus some more time, Sirius. He’ll come ‘round to you.”

“Shut up, Moony.”

 

 

 

By Christmas Eve, Regulus had still not made up with Sirius, and spent most of his time holed up in the Black family library or in his bedroom. He ventured into the kitchen once or twice a day for food but otherwise avoided the festivities. Harry was the only person Regulus had spoken to in days.

“I’ll do it,” Regulus had said from the doorway. His sudden appearance startled Hermione, who had been sitting on the end of Harry’s bed reading a book, so badly that she dropped ‘A Modern Study in Ancient Runes.’ Ron, who had been stretched out next to her, got an eyeful of rune text.

“Shit,” he rolled over, rubbing his eye.

“Regulus?” Harry asked, turning around in his desk chair. “What are you talking about?”

“You want to know what Sirius and his Order friends talk about then I’ll tell you,” he’d responded. “Consider it my Christmas present to the three of you.”

“Oh, Regulus,” Hermione said sadly. “But we haven’t gotten _you_ anything…”

So when Harry and his friends eventually trudged back into the odious grasp of Dolores Jane Umbridge, they at least had the prospect of weekly letters from Regulus to cheer them up. Every Friday morning (following each Thursday night meeting), Hedwig would arrive with a surprisingly detailed description of the meeting’s minutes. Harry wondered vaguely if the charms Ms. Weasley had placed around the door when they were at Grimmauld Place were perhaps no longer there. She probably wouldn’t bother to keep them up just to protect _Regulus_ from dangerous information.

“Jesus Christ, mate,” Ron said, glancing over Regulus’s most recent information shipment. He’d spread the long letter out over all three of their breakfasts. A hiccup escaped his throat. “A _prophecy?_...about you and You-Know-Who? That’s insane! I— _fucking hell,_ ” he hiccupped a second time, clawing angrily at his chest.

“So that’s what they’re keeping in the Department of Mysteries,” Hermione said pensively while Ron downed a glass of water in frustration.

“Insane,” Ron repeated, hiccupping again. “Fuck. Harry, load me your wand for a sec so I can get rid of these, will you?”

Harry held his wand out lazily. “You need to get a new one,” he said.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause my parents can afford that. No, I’ll get my old one back.”

“Do you even know where it is?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“Yes,” said Ron indignantly. “It fell out of my pocket down that back alleyway behind Honeyduke’s. If fucking Umbridge hadn’t have been chasing us I never would have left it behind.”

“If you hadn’t have insisted on sneaking out in the first place you would never have left it behind,” Hermione corrected. Ron rolled his eyes and pointed Harry’s wand at his lower throat, muttering.

“Not like it matters much anyway,” commented Harry bitterly while pouring himself some more juice. “We’re not using our wands much in any classes now. Umbridge is getting more crazy by the day.”

“I know,” said Ron grimly. “Wonder if there’re any Department of Ministry prophecies about who’s going to kill her.”

“That’s just so weird,” said Hermione, her mind back on Harry’s prophecy. “Why would Voldemort want it so badly? It’s too late now, he chose to attack Harry. Knowing whether or not he made the right choice isn’t going to change anything…”

“Hey,” Ron shrugged. “If it keeps him busy.”

As the weeks went on, Umbridge’s hold over the school became more absolute. By March she was the new headmaster and Dumbledore had disappeared. Harry was serving detention with her at least once a week; he doubted his hand would ever completely heal now.

“Should have poisoned her when we had the chance,” Ron sighed. “Hermione,” he said suddenly. “Toss me Harry’s invisibility cloak, will you?”

“And just where are you thinking of going?” Hermione demanded, although she did as he asked.

“To Hogsmeade, just for a second.”

“What?” Harry asked. “Why?”

“To snag my wand back, idiot. I’m tired of being without it.” Ron threw Harry’s cloak over his head. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. You guys don’t have to wait up.”

“Please don’t get caught by Umbridge or Filch,” Hermione begged. “Because if that happens we’ll lose the cloak and I feel like we’re going to need that for more important things than this.”

“For a second I thought you might be worried about _me,_ ” Ron’s disembodied voice huffed. “I’ll see you two later. Good night.”

“Good night,” Harry and Hermione said.

“He better not get my cloak confiscated,” Harry said a minute later. “Hermione are you sleeping in here tonight?”

“If Seamus is still sick then yes, I’m stealing his bed. I’d rather not have to sit and listen to Lavender sobbing all night about whichever boyfriend she’s having problems with now.”

Harry laughed. “Okay. Well I’m going to bed. Tomorrow’s Saturday so if Neville and Dean make it back here before you’re asleep, tell them I set the alarm for ten.”

“Sounds great.”

Harry lazed back against his pillow, trying to clear his mind of all emotion as Snape had instructed him to. To be honest, he hadn’t been practicing as much as he should, but Snape was really just going to yell at him either way, so he hadn’t been willing to put in much effort. He also had not had a vision or troubling dream for several months, so Occlumency practice hadn’t been of great concern to him.

Tonight, however, he was quickly pulled into one of the most vivid visions he’d ever had.

_“Harry.”_ Someone was shaking him urgently. “Harry _wake up.”_

“Hermione?” he gasped, sitting bolt upright.

“Yes,” she nodded. From the flickering light of the candle she held in her hand, Harry could see worried creases covering her face. “You were having some kind of fit, what was it? Another dream?”

Harry panted, nodding. “Hermione,” he asked weakly. “Is…is Ron here? What time is it?”

“Shh, keep your voice down,” Hermione implored. She glanced at the luminous clock. “It’s a little after three, and Ron…” she glanced at his four poster and realized in horror that it was empty. “He’s not here. Harry!”

“We have to get McGonagall,” Harry said immediately. He jumped out of bed and started dressing. Hermione did likewise.

“Harry what’s wrong?” she demanded as they grabbed their wands and sneaked quietly from the dorm and down into the common room. “Where’s Ron?”

“At the Ministry,” Harry said shortly. “I had another vision—”

“Oh, Harry you’re supposed to be blocking those out!”

“I tried!” Harry shouted. “But I fucked up and couldn’t block this one. I saw Ron…” he paled. “Voldemort had him tied up; he was torturing him, threatening to kill him.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione gasped. “He’s trying to lure you to him!”

“Really?”

“Of course, why else would you go months without seeing anything and then suddenly _this?_ Oh, we have to go!” She grabbed Harry by the wrist and the two of them sprinted down the stairs. With Dumbledore gone, they would have to go to McGonagall.

But she wasn’t in her office.

“Shit,” Harry groaned. “Hermione, where do the teachers sleep?”

“I’m not sure!” Hermione was wringing her hands frantically. “I think the heads of houses have rooms near whichever house is theirs?”

“So she’s somewhere in Gryffindor tower?” Harry asked.

“Won’t do you any good,” said a reedy voice from their left. Harry and Hermione both jumped. Hermione shined her wand to illuminate the portrait of a stiff-looking wizard in floral robes.

“What are you talking about?” she hissed.

“Minerva’s gone off on official business. Won’t be back until the morning.”

“Are you being serious?” Harry said incredulously. “Here we’re honestly _trying_ to get help from a teacher and—”

“Snape,” said Hermione suddenly.

“What?”

“Snape,” Hermione repeated. “He’s in the Order, too. I think we could trust him.”

“NO WAY!” Harry screamed so loudly several portraits on the walls—including the flowery wizard with the reedy voice—told him to shut up.

Hermione blanched. “Harry, there’s no time for this…! Fine, let’s go to Sirius’s. You!” she barked to the nearest portraits. “The lot of you! Go find Professor Snape. If he’s still here at the school and hasn’t left with McGonagall, then wake him up and tell him Harry saw Ron Weasley taken to the Department of Mysteries by Voldemort. GO!”

“What? Go to Sirius’s? How?” Harry asked. Hermione started tugging him away again. “Where’re we going, Hermione?”

“To Umbridge’s office. Hers is the only fireplace that’s not being watched. We’ll go to Sirius. He and Lupin should both be there and _they_ can sound the alarm. Fuck, McGonagall might even be there. If she’s gone away on ‘official business’ then it’s probably Order related, right?”

Harry could only gape. Hermione rarely swore, and when she did there was no reasoning with her. He allowed himself to be dragged. By the time they reached Umbridge’s office door, a mild panic was starting to flurry in his stomach. Earlier he’d been too shocked to truly realize how much danger Ron was in, but now it was becoming clear that if at any moment Voldemort felt this scheme was no longer worth his time, Ron would be dead.

Hermione blasted Umbridge’s office door clean off its hinges with one adrenaline-charged flourish of her wand.

“Grab some floo powder,” she hollered. “It’s there, on the mantle.”

Harry did as he was told. He poured half the can into the fire, shouted, _“Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London,”_ and dove through the fire headfirst. He landed with a painful thud half in and half out of Sirius’s kitchen fireplace. He’d only scrambled to his feet when Hermione came crawling out after him.

“Sirius!” Harry screamed, coughing up ash. “Professor Lupin!”

“ _Sirius!_ ” Hermione yelled. “Wake up!”

Harry immediately set off up the stairs, intending to burst into his godfather’s bedroom. He was met halfway up them by Regulus Black, who was holding a hall torch and looking sleepy.

“What the fuck is happening?” he grumbled. “Mr. Potter…Mudblood…why are you here?”

“Regulus!” Hermione gasped, coming up behind Harry. “Where’s your brother? Is Professor Lupin here?”

Regulus was looking at them in alarm. “No,” he said bluntly. “No one’s here.”

“What?” Harry asked, outraged. “Why isn’t Sirius here? He said he wasn’t going to leave the house!”

“I’m aware of that,” Regulus said bitterly. “But he’s gone off with Lupin somewhere. I believe they’re rendezvousing with your _wonderful_ headmaster somewhere.”

“Oh no,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his face in his hands. “How is this happening?”

“Mr. Potter, what’s wrong?”

Hermione let out a few dry sobs before answering for Harry.

“It’s our friend Ron. Voldemort’s gotten ahold of him. He’s holding him in the Department of Mysteries. Harry saw it in a vision.”

Regulus was silent for a moment. Finally he asked, “How do you know this for sure? How did the Dark Lord get inside Hogwarts? He has never been able to do that before.”

“Ron wasn’t at school,” Harry whimpered. “He was in the village.”

Regulus nodded. “And you came here looking for Order help?”

“McGonagall was gone and with Umbridge prowling around controlling everything we didn’t know who else to trust,” Harry explained.

“I see,” Regulus mused. “Well unfortunately I have no way of communicating with my brother and he is not due back until morning. I take it you do not want to wait until then?”

“No,” Harry spat.

“Very well,” Regulus said. He looked to Hermione. “You seem to be more calm. What is your plan of action?”

Hermione scratched at her arms and shifted on her stair. “I don’t know,” she said, biting a fingernail. “I feel like…we have to go ourselves.”

“The two of you cannot go alone, you’ll be slaughtered.”

“Well you can’t well come with us, can you?” Hermione countered. “You’re wand’s at the bottom of a lake!”

Regulus scowled. “I’ll take my mother’s old wand. She always kept it in the study.”

Harry nodded furiously. “Grab it and let’s go.”

“How’re we going to get to the Ministry?” Regulus asked innocently.

“Public transit,” said Hermione immediately. “I’m sure we can get a night bus or a taxi to take us to the visitors’ entrance. Harry do you think you remember how to get there from your hearing?”

Harry nodded.

“Goody,” Regulus said. “I’ve always wanted to ride on the muggle public transportation system and three-thirty in the morning. I look forward to being vomited on.”

They rode mostly in silence, save for Harry’s occasional directions. The cabbie seemed a little reluctant to let them off in what he considered to be the middle of a commercial block, but Hermione threw nearly twice their bill into his lap and they fled while he was distracted.

“What do we type into the phone?” Hermione asked breathlessly as they sardined themselves into the phone booth.

“M-A-G-I-C,” Harry replied sardonically.

“Cle- _ver.”_ Hermione rolled her eyes. Then she addressed the phone. “What are we here for?” she asked. “Rescuing our friend…why? Because we have no trustworthy adults in our lives.”

As they’d predicted, the building was empty. If the Ministry employed any security guards then they were surely all on break, because Harry, Hermione, and Regulus practically flew down the slick hallways. Visitors’ badges with their names and the description _Poorly Supervised Teenager_ bounced on their chests. They reached the lift and piled inside. Hermione pushed the lowest button.

“Secret rooms are always down, right?” she asked desperately. “Regulus what’s wrong?”

Regulus was chewing on his knuckles. As the lifts carried them down, he mused, “It’s just that. Well…it seems like it’d be awfully risky for the Dark Lord to be hanging around in the Ministry. What if this is all just a trap? Suppose Voldemort is merely trying to trick you, Mr. Potter.”

“Of course he’s trying to lure me here,” Harry snapped. “I’m positive he meant for me to see what I did.”

“Wait, you mean you _knew_ this was a trap all along?” Regulus asked, horrified. “You failed to mention that bit back at the house. What are we going to do when we arrive and there are half a dozen death eaters waiting for us?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied. “But I know they’ve got Ron.”

“Ron might not even be here!” Regulus exclaimed. “The Dark Lord surely isn’t!”

“Well it’s too late now,” Hermione insisted. The lift shuddered to a halt and the voice announced _‘The Department of Mysteries.’_ “Now both of you, lower your voices and let’s try to get organized.”

The three of them slinked down the wide hallway, their shoes scuffing the polished floors every so often.

“Okay, which door?” Regulus asked when the three of them halted before a selection of a dozen different doors.

“Don’t know,” Harry said. “Let’s start at one end and work our way down.”

The first three doors revealed a planetarium, an aquarium, and an empty room respectively. It was the fourth one that opened up to an enormous room containing dozens of rows of shelves each stacked to the ceiling with catalogued orbs.

“These are stored prophecies,” Hermione explained. “Harry, Ron was in this room, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Harry answered. “Voldemort was trying to make him take one of the prophecies off the shelf. Down this way…”

Hermione and Regulus followed him.

“Here?” Hermione asked when Harry stopped walking.

“Yes,” Harry said softly. He was staring at one of the prophecies, his head tilted to the side.

“Oh my,” Regulus murmured, leaning forward to read the label. “This is the one about you and the Dark Lord.”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed it.

Hermione was shivering, and so was Regulus. “Harry,” Hermione whispered. “I don’t see Ron anywhere.”

Harry frowned. He broke his eye contact away from the swirling crystal ball let his arm hang loosely at his side. He took a step forward and his foot struck something hard. Something hard and invisible.

Harry looked down. He kneeled on the floor and with a horrible feeling in his gut, brushed his hand over the open air in front of him. Slowly he pulled his invisibility cloak off of Ron Weasley, who was lying unconscious on the ground, blood drying on his face and neck.

Hermione immediately pocketed Harry’s cloak. She, too, sat down next to Ron, feeling for a pulse. Regulus remained standing awkwardly behind them.

“He’s out cold,” she said. “Ennervate.”

Ron opened his eyes blurrily, moaning pitifully.

“Harry?”  he rasped. “Hermione? …Regulus?”

“Oh my god, Ron, you’re alive. Thank Christ,” Hermione said, tears pooling in her eyes. “Come on, can you get up? We’ve got to get out of here right now.”

Harry and Hermione were halfway done standing Ron up when they felt a mass of shadows fall over them.

All three of them gasped. Standing before them holding Regulus by his neck, was a tall, cloaked man wearing one of the masks Harry immediately recognized from the graveyard last summer. Behind him stood four other cloaked, masked figures, and the voice that left the man clutching Regulus revealed his identity immediately.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Mr. Potter,” Lucius Malfoy’s disinterested drawl was unmistakable. “I’d love to trade you your little friend for that lovely orb you’ve got in your hand.”

“Let go of him,” Harry said reflexively. He was all too aware that the death eaters were approaching them slowly, boxing them in against the shelf.

“Surely,” Lucius Malfoy said sleekly. “But you’re going to need to give me that prophecy in return.”

“Fine,” Harry said immediately. “Reg first, then the prophecy.”

Lucius Malfoy leaned down and laughed into Regulus’s shoulder. Regulus flinched.

“Are you trying to bargain with us?” he asked, chuckling. “How adorable, but I’m afraid you don’t get to make the demands here. Now hand me the prophecy.”

They were outgunned. Hermione couldn’t fight without letting go of Ron and leaving him vulnerable, Lucius Malfoy had Regulus by the throat, and that left just Harry against five death eaters. There was no way.

He held out the orb. Lucius Malfoy slackened his grip on Regulus in order to reach for it. Just as it was exchanging hands, Regulus gave an almighty jerk and broke free. The prophecy wobbled on Lucius Malfoy’s fingertips. Regulus flung his wand arm out and sent the prophecy flying. It landed somewhere down the next isle with a smash.

“Stupefy!” he cried while the death eaters were distracted. One of them fell to the floor gracelessly. That left Lucius Malfoy and three others who turned around sharply.

“You!” Lucius screamed to one of them. “Go see if it is truly broken!” Then he turned back to Harry and his friends. Hermione had thrown the cloak back over Ron and pushed him under the shelf. She, Harry and Regulus had dived in the next isle and with a howl, Lucius Malfoy and the two other death eaters sprinted after them.

Harry had no idea what they were going to do now. Ron might manage to crawl to freedom now that he was awake and invisible, but there was no guarantee the three of them could hold out for as long as it might take Ron to get help.

They split up, ducking behind shelves and running down isles. Regulus was smart enough to send an entire row of prophecies spilling to the floor, knocking his pursuer temporarily off their feet. Realizing the effectiveness of that strategy, he tipped the whole shelf. All the shelves behind it began to fall like dominoes. Smoke, mist, and prophecy voices clouded the air. Regulus sprinted off blindly through all the chaos.

Eventually he, Harry, and Hermione smashed back into each other, screaming.

“Oh god, oh Jesus fucking Christ,” Hermione babbled. “Where’s the goddam door? I can’t see anything!”

Harry sent a whirlwind streaming from his wand. It cleared a small trail in the smoke and revealed the back wall. “There,” he pointed breathlessly. The three of them sprinted out the door and frantically down the hall, thinking they might just get away.

But someone was waiting for them at the end of the hall, and it wasn’t Lucius or any of his friends. Harry skidded to a halt and Hermione and Regulus nearly bowled him over.

Even with his hood up, Harry would have recognized the man in front of him anywhere. Lord Voldemort’s slitted red eyes glowed down at him. In one hand he lazily held his long, willowy wand. In the other, he had a tight grip on Ron’s hair. From behind Harry and the others there was a faint yelling. Voldemort glanced casually over the teenagers’ heads at the sound of his death eaters screaming at each other.

He smiled cruelly, and Harry got the impression he was already planning how he would punish Lucius and the others for their unforgiveable blunders.

“So am I to guess my prophecy has been destroyed?” Voldemort asked softly.

Harry could feel his friends shaking against him. He reached a hand out to steady Regulus.

“Yes, it’s gone. I’m sorry,” Harry said. “It actually was an accident. I was trying to hand it to Mr. Malfoy and he dropped it.”

“What a pity,” Voldemort said, tightening his grip on Ron. “And I end up having to come all the way down here to do the work myself after all…”

“Let go of him,” Hermione demanded, stepping up next to Harry and raising her wand.

“Hermione,” said Ron weakly.

Voldemort only laughed mirthlessly. “Girl, you’ve broken my prophecy, so I’m about to snap his neck. There’s nothing in the world that’s going to get me to release him now.”

“I can think of something,” Regulus said, sighing. He was still standing behind Harry, and slouching down a bit so he was fairly hidden.

Voldemort raised his wand to Ron’s temple. “And what might that be?” he asked idly.

“You guys just grab your friend and run okay?” Regulus whispered in a very resigned voice. Before Harry could stop him, Regulus Black stepped forward.

“I think I’m a fair bit more interesting to play with than the redheaded mudblood-lover, don’t you agree, Master?”

Voldemort let Ron fall from his grip at once. Gasping and clutching his throat, with tears streaming down his face, Ron managed to crawl his way to Hermione, who helped him unsteadily to his feet. Harry’s invisibility cloak was still tangled around Ron’s legs. While Voldemort was staring in pure shock at Regulus, Hermione took the cloak and threw it over herself and Ron. She ushered Harry inside as well.

Harry was reluctant to leave Regulus. Voldemort was advancing on him like he was something to eat, completely oblivious to anything else.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione ordered. “Help me with Ron. We need to get out of here.”

“But Reg—”

“We’ll get help for him.”

“Hermione, he’ll kill him!”

“He’ll kill us all if we don’t move!”

Hermione finally convinced Harry to leave with her and Ron, although he did it with a bad feeling in his heart. They staggered into the lift just as Regulus’s first scream tore through the air.

When they spilled out into the hallway on the upper floor, they landed at the feet of Severus Snape.

“Professor!” Hermione gasped in surprise. “You got my message!”

“Yes, Ms. Granger, I did,” Snape said smoothly. He pulled the three of them up and shoved them unceremoniously to the side, where Mr. Weasley caught them.

“Ron!” he said in relief. “You’re all right!”

Ron smiled weakly. “Mostly,” he croaked, closing his eyes and falling against his dad’s chest.

Harry looked around at who else was there: Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Remus Lupin, and his godfather.

“Sirius!” Harry cried immediately as he was pulled into a hug. “Sirius,” he said again, his voice muffled against Sirius’s robes.

“Dumbledore’s on his way, so are more aurors. We’ll be able to round up all the death eaters who are down there no problem. I’m just glad you’re all right,” Sirius said earnestly.

“Sirius!” Harry yelled again, pushing himself away from his godfather. “ _Voldemort_ is down there! And he’s got Regulus!”

“What?” Sirius asked, the bottom falling out of his stomach. “No…no he doesn’t. Reggie is at home in bed.”

“He came with us,” Hermione sobbed. Around her, Moody, Tonks, and Lupin were already running into the lift, having been spurred to action by the name Voldemort. “We only got away just now because of him. Voldemort was going to kill Ron,” –Mr. Weasley’s grip on his son tightened— “Regulus revealed himself to Voldemort to distract him so we could get away.”

Sirius pushed past Harry and Hermione. He ran into the lift as well and immediately it started to go down.

“You two,” Moody barked up at Snape and Mr. Weasley. “Get those ones home back to Sirius’s house. We’ll take care of the scum down here and try to stall You-Know-Who until Dumbledore gets here.”

Snape nodded once and grasped Harry and Hermione by their collars. Mr. Weasley lifted Ron—who had passed out against him some time ago—up into his arms and carried him.

Sirius’s heart was pounding divots into his chest. Voldemort had Regulus… _Voldemort had his Regulus._ He could feel Remus’s hand on his arm, grounding him.

The lift doors opened and Sirius bolted down the hall. They found the commotion easily enough. Regulus’s blood-curdling screams served as a good homing beacon.

Voldemort stood over Sirius’s brother, a legion of his followers watching intently. Regulus was writhing on the floor, clearly under a cruciatus.

“How are you still alive?” Voldemort demanded. Regulus didn’t answer him. He wanted to keep Voldemort frustrated. The instant he satisfied his master’s curiosity, he would be dead.

“Tell me!” Voldemort screamed. When that got no response, he kneeled down. “Reggie…Reggie…” he cooed. Sirius felt his rage boil over. Remus still had a strong grip on his arm, though, reminding him that they needed to do this right. Silently, they started to move into position. It was dark enough in these lower halls that they should be able to get pretty close without being seen.

“Won’t you tell your master what you did? How you stayed so young? He’d _really_ like to know,” Voldemort whispered. He ran his fingers down Regulus’s face and neck. His hand slipped down Regulus’s shirt and at once Regulus let out a fresh howl as Voldemort’s nails tore through his skin, pushing his fingers deep into Regulus’s muscle.

Voldemort hooked his fingers deeper into Regulus’s chest and lifted his torso a foot or so off the ground. “Regulus,” he said softly. “Just tell your master everything and he won’t be mad at you anymore.” When Regulus remained silent, Voldemort slammed him back down onto the tile floor. Regulus’s pitiful keen was what finally snapped Sirius. He broke free of Remus’s grip and sprinted forward. He knocked past several death eaters with ease and sent every curse he could think of flying at Voldemort.

Voldemort was knocked backwards a few feet, startled, but he recovered quickly. Around him, fighting broke out as the rest of the Order members surged forward behind Sirius.

Regulus blinked frantically until the blood cleared from his eyes. He could blearily see Sirius dueling with Voldemort. _What was Sirius thinking?_ He would be no match for the Dark Lord. He’d be dead in minutes, Regulus was sure of it, but just when that seemed imminent, another figure appeared to join the fray.

Professor Dumbledore, Regulus thought calmly. Now _he_ might be able to hold his own a little longer. Regulus could no longer feel much pain and was starting to fade in and out of consciousness. Though whether he was dying or just getting ready to pass out, he wasn’t sure. He thought it would be unfortunate if he truly died to save the mudblood and her two mudblood-loving friends. He figured he wouldn’t be welcomed by his family in the afterlife if that turned out to be the case.

Regulus was vaguely aware of someone picking him up. Likely Sirius, who else would care to save him? Then the person holding him whispered something soothing and kissed his forehead as they carried him away.

So it was definitely Sirius, then.

 

 

 

“Eighteen years old,” Regulus grumbled quietly to himself. Sirius was still asleep beside him with an arm thrown over Regulus’s shoulders. “I’m eighteen fucking years old; I can’t believe this happened. I am way too old for this kind of shit.”

“You act like you’re twelve, I’m gonna’ treat you like you’re twelve,” Sirius murmured sleepily.

Regulus huffed. “So glad you’re awake,” he muttered.

“Yeah well it was all your grouching that woke me.”

“I can’t believe you. I hope you slept well, you goddam monster. Honestly, healing me just so you could beat me up yourself.”

Sirius opened one eye. “Difference. I healed you so I could punish you without killing you.”

“So you hit me until I don’t know which direction is up anymore and then drag me down into your bed. You’re an absolute cretin,” Regulus insisted.

Sirius closed his eyes again and patted Regulus’s face. “And you could have left after I fell asleep but here you still are.”

“I was confused.”

“You were snuggling.”

“Nonsense,” Regulus snapped. “Go back to sleep, Sirius.”

“Thank you, I think I will,” Sirius said yawning. “Regulus?”

“What?”

“You’re not ever going to do anything so reckless again, are you?”

Regulus’s face filled with an angry blush and he sat up. “I believe we’ve discussed this topic thoroughly and the answer was no.”

Sirius reached up and ran a hand through Regulus’s hair. “Yes, I remember,” he said. “But I feel I got that answer out of you while you, shall we say, _under duress._ I just wanted to make sure, now that you’re a bit calmer.”

“Well the answer is still no, not if it’s going to get you worked up like that,” Regulus said angrily. “And while we’re on the subject, I think I would rather still have five gaping finger-holes in my chest. I think it hurt less.”

Sirius sat up and kissed Regulus on the cheek. “You _are_ a drama queen, but I love you.”

Regulus scrambled out of bed and wiped at his face with the hem of his shirt. “Yes, well, that’s nice,” he said, throwing on his robes.

“I don’t get an ‘I love you, too’?”

“You most certainly do not,” Regulus said fiercely. “I do not yet have Stockholm’s Syndrome.”

Sirius smirked. “Well that’s all right,” he said, leaning back with his arms behind his head. “I heard you say it last night.”

“That counts for nothing as I was not myself,” Regulus said indignantly. “Extreme pain makes people say crazy things.”

Regulus threw open the door and walked downstairs in a strange mood. He found the breakfast table occupied by Harry Potter—some bandages from the fight at the Ministry two nights ago still visible on his arms and face—and Remus Lupin.

“Glad you’re awake,” Lupin said kindly. “Harry made breakfast.”

Regulus only grunted, grabbing a plate.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Harry asked with a wide smile. Regulus glared at him.

“I’d rather not,” he said stiffly.

Lupin couldn’t stop himself from snorting into his coffee.

“I’ll leave if you two don’t wish to share my company,” Regulus said just as Sirius came sleepily down the stairs behind him

Lupin chuckled. “No, don’t go, Regulus, we’re sorry. We’re going to stop laughing now, actually. Aren’t we, Harry?”

“Yes, definitely,” Harry agreed. “I don’t find it funny in the slightest that your brother walloped you.”

Regulus’s eye twitched. Sirius walked up behind him and threw an arm casually over his shoulders.

“You know what _is_ funny, though?” Harry asked, looking at his godfather.

“What?” Sirius asked.

“ _I_ didn’t get into any trouble at all.”

Regulus pitched his entire drink into Harry Potter’s smirking face.

 

 

**Happy Holidays, everyone.**

**/lovetenkuroi**


	4. Riches Are Sad (Part 1)

 

Regulus started to really come around over the next few months. His previous life seemed to be fading. He wasn’t forgetting the time before his death, but there was a distance to it all now. It was like some distant memory, as if he had been conscious for the last fifteen years. He was still a teenager, but at times he truly felt thirty.

With the retreat of his first life, Regulus was acclimating to this new existence. He was beginning to settle in with his new surroundings, and had been quarrelling less with his brother. Sirius had thought Regulus to be making excellent progress right up until the middle of July. Suddenly Regulus became severely withdrawn. Though he was rarely talkative and spent a lot of time alone, the evening of July 30th marked the fourth consecutive day that he had not set foot downstairs.

“Regulus?” Sirius knocked softly on his brother’s bedroom door. “Your light’s on and I can see your shadow out from under the door. I know you’re in there.”

“Go away,” Regulus snipped.

“Hey,” Sirius chastised. “Don’t take that tone. Now I’m going to ask you one more time to come down to dinner, it’s going to get cold soon. Everyone’s waiting downstairs and if you haven’t joined us in ten minutes then I’ll be coming back up here and, trust me, you won’t want to see me.”

Regulus scoffed in response, but his voice was so quiet that Sirius was certain his brother hadn’t meant for him to hear.  

Sirius reluctantly returned to the kitchen. He was partially regretting the ultimatum he’d given his brother. He’d been trying to maintain a festive mood in the lead-up to Harry’s sixteenth birthday, and he really didn’t want to have to neglect his godson in favor of punishing his brother.

“How’d it go?” Harry asked when Sirius took his seat at the table. “He not coming down?”

Sirius shook his head and reached for his wine glass. “No, he’s still brooding. I swear sometimes I wonder if I screwed something up with that potion and brought him back as a twelve year-old.”

Only Sirius, Harry and Remus were at the table. The three of them plus Regulus were the only people currently living at Grimmauld Place. The Weasleys would not be moving in again until the end of the summer (Sirius had begged for some time off from all of them in order to focus on his own pseudo-family). However, the whole lot of them, plus several more Order members would be arriving the next day to celebrate with Harry and likely staying on throughout the weekend.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked curiously.

“Dunno,” Sirius admitted. “Likely he’s sulking because there’ll be so many people here for the next few days. Always was an antisocial little bugger.”

“He’s always in the library,” Harry continued. “I wonder what he’s researching?”

“I’m sure it’s something he shouldn’t be,” Sirius said in a low voice.

“And  _I’m_ sure he just enjoys the peace he finds up there. Reading can be very relaxing,” Remus said in a calming tone, although there was a nervous edge to his voice.

“Well I’m going to have a word with him after dinner,” said Sirius resolutely. “I’ve had enough of this.”

“Does this mean I can have Reg’s share of dessert?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

* * *

 

When everyone had finished eating, Sirius left Remus to do the dishes and marched up to Regulus’s room. He didn’t even afford his brother the courtesy of knocking. He unlocked Regulus’s door swiftly with his wand (Regulus, still without a wand of his own, was unable to seal his bedroom door with anything stronger than the ordinary key lock).

Regulus, who had been sitting cross-legged on his bed reading, let out an indignant noise of surprise and quickly tossed the book in his open school trunk, which he swiftly closed before turning to his brother.

“What the hell, Sirius?” he demanded. “What, do I not deserve _knocking_ anymore?”

Sirius approached his brother and sat next to him on the bed, choosing for the moment to ignore Regulus’s suspicious actions with the book. “No, Regulus, honestly, you don’t. Now would you like to explain to me just what’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been insufferable.”

“Go away, Sirius!” Regulus yelled, looking away. Sirius grabbed Regulus and pulled him back around to face him.

“Regulus, why didn’t you come down to dinner like I asked? I assume you’ve been having Kreacher bring you food these last few days…I will order him to stop facilitating this behavior if you don’t come around yourself.”

“Sirius,” Regulus whined.

“Enough, Regulus, I’ve given you plenty of warnings.”

Regulus looked a little scared. He huffed and fell backwards onto his bed, trying to seem nonchalant but actually coming off more than a little nervous. “Oh right. I see,” he said in a clipped tone. “Want me to go and fetch Father’s favorite belt, then?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic,” he growled. “And don’t temp me. I’ve come up here to talk with you, nothing more.”

“Oh!” Regulus scoffed. “Because with the way you were talking earlier, I thought for sure I was in for it…”

Sirius hated it when Regulus goaded him like this. He knew Regulus didn’t respect him as much as Harry did. After all, Sirius had _always_ been something of an authority figure to Harry, but Regulus still held an obvious preference for Sirius as a brother, and was reluctant to censor himself or obey arbitrary orders. Sirius knew comparing Regulus and Harry was unfair, but damn it all if Harry wasn’t infinitely easier get along with. Not that Harry hadn’t had his fair share of escapades, but he never fought with Sirius and truthfully, Harry had a dozen other authority figures in his life who were better equipped to keep the boy out of direct danger anyway. With Harry the responsibility was spread around somewhat, but with Regulus…with Regulus Sirius was mostly on his own.

“Please just talk to me, Reg,” Sirius said, sighing. “I really don’t want to fight with you right now. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see if I can fix it…”

“Sod off, Sirius, I don’t have to talk to you—ow!”

Regulus ruefully rubbed at his arm where Sirius had slapped him.

“Yes you most certainly do have to talk to me,” Sirius countered.

“You’re not my dad,” Regulus said petulantly.

“Of course not,” said Sirius in frustration. He felt like they had had this particular conversation a hundred times over. “I’m your older brother—”

“No you’re not,” Regulus snapped. He seemed to immediately regret saying anything at all, and swiftly rolled over, facing the wall.

“What?” Sirius asked in surprise. “Regulus, what do you mean?”

“N—nothing. Never mind. Sirius, just _go away!_ ”

Sirius could tell his brother was struggling not to cry. With a soft sigh, he kicked off his shoes and swung his legs up onto his brother’s bed, then pressed himself up against Regulus’s back, draping one arm over his brother’s chest in a firm hug.

“Shh,” Sirius hummed softly. He’d not had to do this since Regulus was very small, and so he was a bit out of practice, but his instincts proved correct. Instead of pushing him away, Regulus actually took ahold of Sirius’s arm, holding it tightly to his chest as if to prevent Sirius from letting go.

“All right, Reggie,” Sirius said softly. “Now do you want to tell me what you meant? I’m afraid you’ve lost me…how come I’m not your brother anymore?”

“Because you’re just going to die, okay?” Regulus shouted. He pressed his face into the blankets, muffling his hitching voice.

“Regulus, I’m not going to die,” Sirius said calmly. “I’m perfectly safe here, you know that.”

“But you’re _old!_ ” Regulus said crossly. “You’re too old now. You’re not going to live for my whole life like you should. You’re going to die and leave me alone!”

Sirius blinked. Had that been what was bothering his brother? Their new age difference? It was an unpleasant topic, Sirius had to admit, but he found it hard to believe that it was enough to send Regulus into this kind of a frenzy.

“You’ve got a lot of years before you need to start worrying about that, Reg,” Sirius said softly. “I’m hardly that old yet. And besides, magical medicine’s come a long way in the last few years; I promise I’ll be around to harass you for quite a while yet,” he added with a smile. Regulus tightened his grip on Sirius’s arm.

Sirius lifted himself up on one elbow and leaned over Regulus a bit, covering him almost, trying to make him feel secure. It was rare that Regulus opened up and showed this kind of vulnerability, he was such a proud creature. Sirius felt the desperate need to prove to Regulus that he could handle this—that he could take care of him.

“Tell me what else is bothering you, Regulus, please?” Sirius asked. When Regulus remained silent, he added, “I know you’ve more to say. Why have you been avoiding me?”

In truth, Regulus had been avoiding everyone, but as his avoidance of Order members and most of the other teenagers was usually par for the course, Sirius felt that the topic worth addressing was Regulus’s reluctance to talk with him specifically.

Regulus remained quiet. Then something clicked inside Sirius’s head.

“Oh,” he said softly. “You’re upset about Harry’s birthday tomorrow.”

Regulus stiffened. Sirius bit his lip, pondering the situation. “Surely you’re not jealous, Regulus?” he asked carefully. “You couldn’t think that I’d forget you? I assure you that you’ll have all my attention when your birthday rolls around this August.”

Sirius would have been lying to say that he wasn’t the slightest bit excited by Regulus caring enough about him to want to monopolize his attention.

“Sure,” Regulus muttered shortly. “Whatever.”

Sirius shook his brother a little. “Regulus, come now. Don’t be petty. I thought you liked Harry? I understand that you might be feeling insecure, but think of him for a moment. Sixteen is an important birthday and I’d not dream of letting Harry’s slip by unnoticed.”

“Yeah,” Regulus snapped. “It’s real fucking important. So are fourteen, fifteen, and seventeen…”

“Yes,” said Sirius blankly. “Of course they…are…oh fuck,” he swore quietly. “Regulus, listen—”

“To what?” Regulus asked miserably. “Your excuses? I don’t want them.”

Sirius exhaled deeply. So they had finally reached the root of the problem. Regulus had clearly worked himself into a panic after realizing his brother’s remaining lifespan was significantly shorter than his own, and then convinced himself that Sirius was likely to spend most of his comparatively short time left with Harry rather than Regulus—because Sirius was going all out for Harry’s sixteenth birthday while he had ignored Regulus’s own (along with his fourteenth, fifteenth, and seventeenth).

“Regulus please, don’t do this. You know I was completely absent from Harry’s life until he was thirteen, he’s hardly been bogarting my affections.”

“You weren’t in prison yet, Sirius,” Regulus said cruelly. “Just living with Potter.”

It was a low blow, and Sirius felt like he deserved it. With great effort, he pulled Regulus over so they were face to face. With no warning, Sirius kissed Regulus’s forehead. “Regulus Arcturus Black,” he said earnestly. “Listen to me. The way I treated you when we were younger was despicable. I was young and inconsiderate, and my mistakes contributed to your death. I will never forgive myself for that.

“But now I have the chance to try and right a little bit of that big mistake. Please let me. Please believe me when I tell you I love you, Regulus, with all my heart.”

Regulus looked at him incredulously. “How can that be true?” he asked sullenly.

Sirius ran a hand through his brother’s neat hair. “Well, Reg, what about Mum and Dad?”

“What about them?”

“Well, did you split your love between them? Divvy it out percent by percent?”

Regulus shook his head.

“Or did you just love them both unconditionally, with all of your heart, without favoring one or the other?”

Regulus looked down.

Sirius kissed him again, this time on the top of his head. “I know this is all very hard for you, Regulus, but please remember that you can talk to me, always. I _want_ you to talk to me. And understand that you are not replaceable to me, not by James twenty years ago, and not by Harry now.”

Regulus took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” said Sirius kindly. “Are you hungry at all? I set aside some dinner for you earlier, we can heat it up…”

“Maybe later,” Regulus said. He still felt a bit queasy from crying.

“Okay,” said Sirius. “Do you want me to stay with you for a bit?” he asked. He knew Regulus would normally want him to clear out, as he would be embarrassed for showing so much emotion, but today he felt Regulus might appreciate the gesture because it would mean Sirius was choosing him over Remus and Harry, two people Regulus thought of as having stolen his brother at one time or another.

“Please do,” Regulus said so softly that Sirius almost didn’t hear him.

And stay Sirius did. The two hardly spoke for the rest of the night, but they didn’t need to. Sirius lay with Regulus for a while, then the two got up and Sirius took out his brother’s old Chinese checkers set. They played until they were both yawning. Without a word, Sirius got into bed next to Regulus and stayed with him through the night.

At one point there was a creak as Regulus’s door opened slightly before closing again. Regulus was sound asleep, but Sirius was just awake enough to realize it was Remus and Harry, coming to check on the two of them.

* * *

 

So Regulus sucked up his pride and made an appearance at Harry’s birthday party the next day. He was irrationally terrified that Sirius would have announced to the whole room Regulus’s behavior the previous few days, but when he crept into the kitchen around noon he found that wasn’t the case. Everyone was milling about, talking and happily snacking on a small buffet that covered most of the kitchen table. Harry and his friends were at the head of the table, playing with a brand new chess set and speculating about presents.

Regulus eyed the waist-high mound of presents in the corner of the room. At least a third of them seemed to have Sirius’s name on them. Despite his promise to get over such a petty gripe, Regulus felt a little embittered that Sirius was spending his fortune so frivolously. It was his money after all. Sirius had been disowned and the Black Family fortune as well as Grimmauld Place and their various estates had only reverted to him after Regulus had died. Regulus felt as if his name should have been written on some of those cards…

“Reggie!” Sirius called. “Glad you finally got out of bed. Come here and eat something!”

Regulus cringed as a dozen sets of eyes briefly centered on him. He wished Sirius hadn’t called attention to his arrival. He nodded once to Harry Potter before joining his brother at the kitchen counter. Sirius was fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station everyone would like.

“Not that one, Sirius, that’s for old people!” Hollered one of the Weasley twins from the table.

“Go back one!” yelled Ginny. “I liked the last one!”

A large, ginger cat flung himself onto the counter and Regulus started. For an agonizing minute, the room filled with the booming laughter of Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was conversing loudly with the other adults near the entryway.

Regulus wanted to cover his ears and scream. Everything was too loud and too obnoxious. Sirius finally settled on a radio station before turning to him.

“I put your name on one of the gifts,” he said proudly, offering Regulus a plate of miniature sandwiches and vegetables.

“Only one, eh?” Regulus asked sourly. He took the food and immediately dumped half of it back onto Sirius’s own plate.

“What are you on about?” Sirius asked, promptly putting Regulus’s discarded food back on his little brother’s plate.

“Just wondering how attached you are to _my_ inheritance,” Regulus snapped. He swiveled around, trying to prevent Sirius from ladling any more food onto his plate. “I don’t suppose I’m ever going to get any of what Mum and Dad left me…”

Sirius paused for a moment. Now here was something he and Regulus had never discussed: their parents’ assets. Sirius had promised that Regulus’s situation would be explained to the Ministry once the war was over and he was no longer at any risk from Voldemort, but they had never discussed money or property. Sirius knew his parents had left everything to Reg and that him having it all now was a sort of legal mistake, for although his parents had disowned him, they had not done so legally and when no secondary heir was named, Regulus’s death had forfeited everything back to their one remaining child: Sirius. Sirius remembered getting the letter while in Azkaban and feeling very bitter about it all. A fat lot of good such a windfall of money and property did him in a prison cell!

But it seemed Regulus was operating under the assumption that Sirius was going to sign everything back over to him one Regulus was legally “alive” again. Sirius honestly hadn’t been planning to.

“You’re hardly going to be starving in the streets, Regulus,” Sirius hedged. “I’ll take care of you.”

Regulus ground his teeth and Sirius knew he was on thin ice with his brother. One wrong word and Regulus would surely make a scene. Sirius wasn’t going to promise him anything, though. In his mind it wasn’t stealing exactly, more like righting a wrong. Everything should have been his to begin with; he was older.

“If you think I won’t fight you on this, Sirius, you’re dreaming,” Regulus hissed. “ _You’re_ the one who left everything and all of us behind to rot! You never cared about our legacy. This house and all their money is rightfully mine and you know that! You got shit from Uncle Alphard, and I got my inheritance from our parents. When this is all sorted out, I _will_ take back what is mine!”

Before Sirius could respond, Remus Lupin shouldered his way past the gaggle of Weasley children who were busily showing off some indoor fireworks display the twins had made for Harry.

“Sirius,” he said. “I’m making a trip down to the wine cellar for refills.” He held up two empty bottles and shook them slightly for emphasis before setting them in the sink. “Do you mind if Harry has a little? He’s been asking.”

“That’s fine,” Sirius said.

“Hello, Regulus,” Remus said fondly. “You look upset, is everything okay?”

“Oh I’m fine,” Regulus said sardonically. “Aside from the fact that I’ve been robbed blind. IF you’ll excuse me…”

He set his plate of uneaten food down and pushed his way past Remus. Before he could escape the room however, he was waylaid by Hermione Granger, who insisted he set off the next round of fireworks for them. Regulus scowled but reluctantly accepted her wand and joined in the merriment.

“Twelve hours of peace between the two of you. Is that some sort of record?”

“Very funny, Moony,” Sirius said. “He’s mad at me because the house and all our parents’ money was originally left to him but then went to me when he died. I think he assumed I was going to give it all back eventually…”

“You aren’t?” Remus asked curiously.

“Of course not!” Sirius exclaimed. “What would I live on?”

Remus shrugged. “It is his, Sirius. I understand why you’d want to keep it, being sort of his parent and all now, but surely you must understand how upset he’d be?”

Sirius nodded sadly. “I knew it’d be a tough potion for him to swallow, but I thought I could appease him by promising him all the money he could ever need. It’s not like I wasn’t planning on providing for him. If we’re both living in the house and I fill his vault with gold, then what’s the difference to him?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “And if you just gave it all back and let him give _you_ an allowance, Sirius?”

“Don’t be crazy, Moony! I can’t have my little brother own our house! Imagine him trying to kick me out the first time he disagrees with a punishment…”

“ _See_ ,” said Remus slyly. “It clearly does make a difference. It’s a control thing, Sirius. Regulus knows he’s not going to be in the poorhouse just because you’ve taken over his inheritance, but he’ll still be at _your_ mercy. Even if you’d never deny him money or kick him out of the house, it’s just the fact that you have that power at all…plus, he’s a teenager as well as a Black: two demographics that last time I checked, did _not_ share so well.”

“I guess you’re right, but now what do you propose I do?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure anything short of getting one of your parents’ portraits to tell him to obey you is going to cow him. Barring that…just offer to put the asset deeds in both your names and give him a share of the money.”

“Putting a second name on any of our deeds wouldn’t actually give him any power of estate,” Sirius said confusedly.

“No, but it’d make him feel better. Anyway, you two have a long time before any of this is something you need to be worrying about. What brought it all on?”

Sirius nodded towards Harry’s present pile, which was noticeably smaller thanks to tactics he was sure his godson and his friends thought were sneaky.

“Ah,” said Remus. “Spending all his money on the kid he’s the most jealous of. Excellent job, Sirius.”

“Oh shut up and go get the wine already.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day passed in peaceful excitement. Everyone seemed so happy that in certain moments Regulus felt sure he was the only person who remembered that they were in the middle of asymmetrical war. Harry Potter gleefully unwrapped a new broomstick, several expensive jackets, a wand-servicing kit, multiple Quidditch books, and various other expensive gifts. Some of them appeared to have been hastily rewrapped. 

Harry shared his stash of new-got candy with all his friends. Seeming attuned to Regulus’s unhappiness, Harry made a point of giving Regulus more than anyone else. Regulus didn’t feel much like eating sweets, but he appreciated the gesture.

Later in the evening everyone retired to the drawing room with plates of cake. Most of the kids lounged on the floor, snacking and talking, while the adults sat around on the furniture sipping wine and firewhiskey. Regulus alone stood awkwardly in the doorway. Sirius set down his glass and approached him.

“Will you come sit with me, Regulus?” he asked.

Regulus shrugged.

Sirius draped an arm over his brother. “Thank you for behaving,” he said. Sirius was very happy that Regulus had chosen to not make a fuss over their earlier argument and that he seemed to be getting along well with everyone at the party.

Regulus gave in. He was tired, and Sirius’s affections were too tempting. Regulus slouched into his brother’s armchair with him. It was large enough that they could fit comfortably side by side. Soon the lights were dimmed and Bill Weasley was entertaining everyone with a bit of an indoor lightshow. Regulus watched with heavy eyelids for a few minutes before he drifted off, his head lolling onto Sirius’s shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Sometime later, around ten o’clock, Professor Dumbledore arrived. Regulus awoke with a start when he felt Sirius stand up.

Dumbledore handed Harry a gift, which the boy quickly set about unwrapping. Then after a brief word with Sirius and Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore had the children cleared from the room except Harry Potter. Regulus also lagged behind.

“Go on, Reg,” Sirius urged.

Regulus shook his head. “I want to know what’s—”

“Not now, Regulus,” Sirius insisted and he pushed Regulus hastily from the room. “Get.”

Regulus wanted to argue, but Sirius’s glare stayed him. Regulus reluctantly retreated upstairs to his room. A long while after, Hermione Granger nudged open his door, knocking quietly.

“Can we converge in here, Regulus?” she asked, leading Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny into Regulus’s room with her.

“Sure,” Regulus sighed. He was too upset to sleep anyway.

“Harry’s been gone for quite a while,” said Ginny suspiciously, crawling catlike onto Regulus’s bed and making herself comfortable. Regulus sneered a bit at her and slid further away.

“He left?” Regulus asked Hermione as though she had voiced the question. He found he had an easier time talking to her as she appeared to possess a modicum of intelligence compared to the rest of the home invaders.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Professor Dumbledore took him off somewhere. They’ve been gone since ten-thirty!”

“Well,” said Fred or George, Regulus couldn’t be bothered to guess which. He whipped out one of the Extendable Ears they had used the previous year to spy on the Order. It dangled ominously. “When they get back they’re bound to have a little meeting, and we’ll be listening!”

“Can’t you just rely on your friend to fill you in on the details?” Regulus asked in a bored voice. “He’s never failed to before.”

“I don’t know,” said Hermione skeptically. “I think if Professor Dumbledore swore him to secrecy he’d want to obey him. It’s easier for everyone if we just get the information on our own, then Harry won’t be put in an awkward position.”

“Fair enough,” Regulus sighed.

“Did you hear that?” Ron asked suddenly. “That’s the front door! That’ll probably be them!”

“Finally!” Ginny breathed, relieved. “It’s almost one am!”

Just like that, everyone rushed from Regulus’s room. With a sigh, he followed them.

Harry Potter was indeed back, and by the sound of things, exhausted.

“Harry, are you all right?” Regulus could clearly hear Sirius’s voice even without the Weasley’s trick device.

“M’fine, Sirius.” Harry sounded exhausted. Hermione held out her arm, stopping her posse at the bottom of the steps.

“So?” Came Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice. “Were the suspicions correct? Was there really another horcrux in that house?”

“Indeed,” said Dumbledore. By the sound of things, he was showing something to the others. “A ring. I cannot begin to express my gratitude at your bravery, Harry. You have once again proven yourself capable of things far greater than most your age.”

“You are truly amazing, Harry,” Sirius said.

Regulus felt his heart clench. There were multiple horcruxes? And by the sound of things, Dumbledore had taken the Potter boy to retrieve a second one. Why had he not been informed of this? _He_ was the one who had discovered the Dark Lord’s secret! And why was Harry being allowed to gallivant off and hunt dark artefacts like this, when he, Regulus, had been forbidden by Sirius from even leaving his house?

Sirius continued to praise and fawn over Harry, until Regulus couldn’t take it anymore. He stalked off to his room and slammed to door shut.

Regulus knew he was being petty in some regards. It was little of him to feel jealousy over Harry’s treatment. He was frustrated, though. Did Sirius truly think of him as such a child? Less trustworthy than a sixteen-year-old…less _brave_?

He thought back to the night he’d revealed his mission in the cave. He’d received suspicious glances, a few sage nods and a few shocked expressions. No one had hailed him as a hero. Regulus truly wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He felt as though he truly had no place in this new world.

Bitter, Regulus pulled his books back out, as well as his notes. As he had every day for the last few months, he pored over his papers. Some were recent and some were from his previous life and they held everything he’d gathered on the Dark Lord’s immortality and his potential horcruxes. Originally, Regulus had thought his various notes were speculations on the possible location of his master’s horcrux. When he’d been taken to the cave by Kreacher and collected the locket, he’d assumed that his other leads had been false. Now, however, with the revelation that there were multiple horcruxes, Regulus was forced to assume that all his other potential leads were actually other horcruxes.

Regulus sifted through his pages. What had Dumbledore mentioned…a ring? In a house somewhere? Likely that was the Marvolos’ house, the home of Voldemort’s ancestors. Or perhaps the Gaunts. Regulus wasn’t sure, and it hardly mattered at this point. That horcrux had been found. Regulus focused his thoughts on some of his other leads. Perhaps if he could locate another piece of Voldemort’s soul, he could tell the others and then Sirius would see him as useful.

It took Regulus hours to narrow his options down.

“Bellatrix…” he whispered.

A knock at his door nearly made him jump out of his skin. He hastily hid his work and looked at the clock. It was seven in the morning.

“Come in,” Regulus said gruffly, and unsurprisingly, it was Sirius who stuck his head in.

“Breakfast, Reggie,” he said. “What would you like me to make? Hang on…” Sirius eyed Regulus’s clothes. “You haven’t slept, have you?”

“What of it?” Regulus asked, miffed.

Sirius sighed. “Not this again, Reggie.” He pulled his brother to his feet. “What can I do to make you trust me?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. He decided to throw a little test at his brother.

“You could tell me what all that commotion was about yesterday.”

Sirius blinked. “Regulus…”

“What did Dumbledore want?” Regulus demanded. “He left with your godson and they came back in the early hours of the morning. What were they up to, Sirius?”

Sirius paused. “The…headmaster has been teaching Harry Occlumency these past few months. He’s nervous about Harry’s visions. Harry’s been receiving private lessons once a week. Surely you’ve noticed?”

Regulus narrowed his eyes. “Of course I did,” he said angrily. “I wasn’t aware they were so important that he needed to be whisked away in the middle of the night.”

“Well it is,” said Sirius shortly. “So let’s just forget it, okay?”

“Sure,” Regulus growled. He joined Sirius in the kitchen and ate in a gloomy silence while everyone around him chattered happily. He left quickly and no one noticed him. If Sirius was going to lie to his face, then he wasn’t going to share any information with him. Instead he’d go and get the next horcrux himself.

 

 

End/part one

Signed/tenrousei-kuroi

 


	5. Riches Are Sad (Part 2)

Sirius spent his morning in his in his parents' study. Regulus had left breakfast in a huff, clearly angry with Sirius for how he'd dismissed Regulus's questions. The kid was likely sulking in his bedroom and Sirius was going to let him. He was tired of going through the same run around with his brother over and over again. This time, Regulus was going to apologize to him! Sirius knew he was being immature, but he'd had enough!

Sirius sighed and rubbed at his eyes. With all the excitement the previous night, he'd not slept much and he was finding it hard to resist crawling back into bed. Harry had left with the Weasleys and Hermione an hour or so previous. They were set to spend the day in Diagon Alley. Sirius obviously couldn't go because he was still a wanted criminal. Harry had begged him to come, perhaps with the aid of some charmwork or a polyjuice potion, but Ms. Weasley had threatened to inform Professor Dumbledore and Sirius didn't feel like aggravating the man just now. Besides, someone needed to stay home with Regulus. Remus was once again bound for the Underworld. This left Sirius and Regulus alone.

Sirius groaned as he shuffled through his parents' legal documents. He was looking for the ward schematics. Somewhere his father had drawn out just what protections he'd set on the house. Some of Dumbledore's newer spells were starting to react badly with the house's original wards. The fidelius charm seemed to be…wearing off. It wasn't something any of them had seen before.

"Jesus Christ, Dad," Sirius muttered as he pulled a stack of papers out from a musty drawer. At first glance, it seemed to be what he was looking for, but it was all written in runescript. Sirius could have banged his head against the wall. It would take him ages to translate this without help…but he supposed he had nothing else to do.

Sirius grudgingly reached for his wand, intending to use it to speed some of this along but found it wasn't in his pocket.

"Oh that's right," he said aloud. "I left it upstairs."

Sirius had gotten oddly complacent in his new home, and frequently left his wand lying about. It was something he would never have done before Azkaban. Going without his wand for those twelve years in prison had wreaked havoc on his instincts. He had just about resigned himself to traipsing upstairs to fetch his wand when he remembered that his mother's old wand lived in the study. When Sirius had recovered the wand from his brother after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries, he'd put it back in this room, in a new hiding place and under lock and key this time.

Sirius pulled the locked wandbox from the hidden compartment beneath the desk. To his horror, it fell open with no effort, and there was no wand inside.

Sirius swore. Immediately his mind screamed that Regulus had done this…but why? Fear gripped as Sirius's stomach. The last time Regulus had stolen their mother's wand he had run off into mortal danger…but surely he wouldn't have done anything like that _again?_ No, there was no way he'd've done something so stupid.

But then Sirius thought of how much he and Regulus had been arguing lately.

"Regulus!" he screamed, dashing from the room.

* * *

It had been easy for Regulus to sneak free of Grimmauld Place. For all the wards keeping the wrong sort _out,_ his brother had not bothered to set up any spells that would keep Regulus _in_. Regulus had walked right out the back door, traversed the patio and clambered over the fence. Then he'd set off down the street, found a quiet area, and summoned the Knight Bus.

With fingers crossed, he asked to be taken to Bella's old address in Wales.

As he stood clutching the handrail with both hands, Regulus pondered what he was doing. This was quite possibly his stupidest stunt yet. There was no good reason he could conjure up why he hadn't just told the Order that his cousin was likely housing one of the Dark Lord's artefacts in her bank vault.

…Or at least that was likely to have been true fifteen years ago. Regulus closed his eyes with a pained expression on his face. If the horcrux was no longer there, then this would all be a waste and Sirius would only be proven right.

As the bus sent Regulus careening into a window seat, he briefly pondered the option of giving this all up and going home. Sirius would probably murder him, and likely lock him away for a good long time. Not to mention how embarrassing it would be to turn back now. No, Regulus decided grimly as he staggered back to his feet, he would not fail at this.

The bus dropped him off perhaps a quarter mile away from his cousin's house, and Regulus walked the rest of the way.

Bella and Rodolphus lived in a manor that would shame Abraxas Malfoy's. Regulus crept through the massive lawn, wondering how close he could get to the house before the wards noticed him. The answer was about a hundred meters. Regulus slipped into some foliage and waited. He could get into Bella's manor (he was a fellow Death Eater after all) but she would still be alerted that he'd entered the wards.

Here was the part where luck came into play. Regulus needed to lure Bella to Gringotts, needed her to open her vault on her own and take the horcrux out. There was no way he'd be able to sneak into the bank without being caught.

After an hour of waiting, Regulus got what he needed. Someone inside the manor had sent a letter using a tawny owl. Moving quickly, Regulus shot it down with his mother's wand. The owl landed near him with a soft thud, rustling the bushes. Regulus picked it up, ignoring the letter it had dropped. He turned it's feathers a dark black and managed to transfigure the bird a little bit larger. Hopefully it would be unrecognizable. Then he picked up the letter and opened it, erased its contents, and replaced them with an "official" notice from Gringotts.

He needed Bella to think that her bank vault's security had been compromised. Whether the goblins at Gringotts denied sending the letter when Bella arrived would be irrelevant. She would still be nervous enough to take anything important out of the bank. If she'd been entrusted with one of Voldemort's horcruxes, that would definitely be something she would take no chances with.

He could steal the horcrux from Bella, he was certain, just so long as she didn't see him. The Dark Lord was likely to have informed her that he'd seen Regulus at the Department of Mysteries since she hadn't been there herself. And even if he hadn't, Bella seeing a teenage Regulus Black would still be catastrophic.

"Ennervate," Regulus whispered. It took three tries before the owl awoke. Regulus tossed it back into the sky and muttered, "To Bellatrix now. Go on."

The bird flew off a little crookedly. Regulus waited, panting nervously.

* * *

In ten minutes Sirius had searched his entire house and now he was starting to panic. Regulus was gone. He was really gone. And Sirius had no means to go about tracking him down. It wasn't like last time, when Regulus had run off with other people and left a message to come find them. There was no one here to help him either.

Sirius sat down in a kitchen chair and buried his head in his hands. He was positively sick with worry. He couldn't even muster any anger towards his brother. All he wanted was for Reg to be safe. For him to walk in through the front door with that smug scowl on his face.

Sirius felt guilty. Things had been unfair for Regulus lately. If Sirius had explained himself better…if he had spent more time with Regulus…maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"Goddammit, Regulus," Sirius choked. "Why couldn't you just fucking trust me?"

If Regulus had just come to him, if he had just explained how he was feeling then Sirius could have calmed him down. He could have prevented this.

Suddenly Regulus's jealousy of Harry was making a lot more since. Perhaps it wasn't just Sirius's affections that Regulus envied. Maybe Regulus was having trouble accepting this new time period. Sirius had been seeing Regulus as a fellow outcast, but he wasn't the same as Sirius at all. Sirius had ties to this world, many of them. Regulus had no one but Sirius. Of course Regulus would be jealous of Sirius: Sirius had multiple people to spread his affection amongst, including Harry, whereas Regulus had only Sirius. Sirius was the only person who _knew_ Regulus, who understood him. And Sirius had foolishly thought Regulus would be content to live in a world of just his big brother and no one else.

_Stay at home, Regulus._

_It's time for you to eat now, Regulus._

_Stay here while I go out Regulus; I'm done with you for now._

"Fuck," Sirius murmured. He felt like a heel. He'd been treating Regulus like he was some sort of housecat!

For the first time since he'd done it, Sirius found himself regretting bringing Regulus back. It had been a selfish move; Regulus didn't seem to be happy in his new situation. Sirius had only wanted to make himself feel better. If he'd been given a choice…would Regulus have preferred to stay dead? Sirius shook his head. No, he couldn't think like that. Regulus deserved a second chance, perhaps more than anyone else, and it was up to Sirius to provide him that.

With a heavy heart, Sirius gathered himself and tried to think through his options. He couldn't go tearing off anywhere, because he had no idea where Regulus was, and no one else would know either. The only thing he could think to do was send a letter to Dumbledore and hope he got it soon.

* * *

Regulus's plan had worked marvelously. He saw the green flames of someone using the floo network shoot out of the chimneystack not ten minutes later. Bellatrix must have been extremely worried.

And better yet, she'd sent an owl to the bank as well. Regulus shot that bird down, too, charmed its colors darker and kept it stunned. He'd need it when Bella got back.

While he waited, he found those same persistent doubts that had plagued him on the Knight Bus worming their way back into his head. Suppose he was caught by his cousin…the Order would be in a world of trouble, as Bella had never had much trouble getting information out of Regulus.

Regulus shuddered. She would undoubtedly turn him in to Voldemort, and that was a reunion he did _not_ want to face. Rodolphus might be more lenient if he were home. He had always had a soft spot for Regulus. Regulus could recount multiple times that Rodolphus had stood up for him, usually in the face of other Death Eaters or even their Dark Lord himself. He'd made multiple excuses for Regulus's avoidances and saved him from quite a few punishments.

Regulus felt a bizarre guilt twirl round in his stomach at the thought of how much trouble Rodolphus would be in when Voldemort found out he and Bella had lost his precious horcrux.

…but that wasn't important now! Regulus had to be ready. He took Bella's second letter—an angry notice to Gringotts, as he'd expected—and set about transfiguring it into an urgent letter from Rabastan. (He crossed his fingers that Rabastan had not chosen this day to visit his brother).

At first Regulus wrote to Bella asking her to rush to the Lestrange home, but then decided against that. If Bella were called too far away, she might refuse or take the horcrux with her. Regulus needed to lure her out of the house just enough that she'd be far enough away to give him some breathing room, but also close enough nearby that she'd feel comfortable leaving Voldemort's possession unguarded.

So he instead he faked a warning. He wrote a concise letter advising Bella to set up wider wards around her home, making up a story about her and Rodolphus's location being compromised to the Order.

Regulus felt another small swirl of guilt. Why hadn't he mentioned to Sirius or the Order that he knew where the Lestranges were? Their escape had been big news, and Regulus remembered how terrified everyone had been at the idea of Voldemort gaining back some of his biggest followers (the breakout had been blamed on Sirius, naturally). But Regulus had failed to mention that Bella's hidden home was accessible to him, and that he could have easily led the others to it.

He honestly hadn't even thought about it. When he returned to Grimmauld Place, would Sirius be mad that he hadn't offered up Bella and Rodolphus's hiding spot? Would he see it as a betrayal? Perhaps Sirius would think Regulus was still loyal to the Death Eaters, and send him packing…

Then he'd be truly alone. Regulus shivered. No, Sirius wouldn't do that, he wouldn't! Regulus would bring him a piece of Voldemort's soul and he would be welcomed back. Sirius would finally see that Regulus was not any longer that thirteen-year-old child that he had left behind. Regulus's forehead creased as he set his face in grim determination. He would _make_ Sirius understand that the last five years (for Regulus, fifteen for Sirius) had, indeed, _happened_ , and that Sirius couldn't just pick up where he'd left off with his brother, as he so clearly wanted to do.

An hour or more later, a brief blaze of green was once again visible from out Bella's chimney. Regulus revived her stunned owl and sent it off with the final letter. Bella was storming across her front lawn, yelling, with a cold-faced Rodolphus trailing after her within minutes. His heart in his throat, Regulus slid slowly behind them, giving the two a very wide berth, and entering the wards only when the two seemed to be distracted, in the middle of a full-on argument. He slipped in through the front door and when it clicked shut behind him, Regulus could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

"All right, Bella," he whispered to himself. "Where would you temporarily store one of the Dark Lord's most treasured items?" Regulus cringed at how high-pitched his voice had become.

He probably didn't have more than a few minutes. What if he couldn't find the damned thing? Honestly, what had he been expecting in the first place? That he would be able to just _sense_ which room the horcrux was in? Biting his lip, Regulus crept through the front sitting room, his mother's wand out, muttering summoning charms in the vague hope that the Dark Lord had not bothered to protect his precious soul vessel from such spells.

"Master Regulus?"

Torso half in and half out of the downstairs study, Regulus jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"What is Master doing here? Has the blood traitor finally released you?"

"K—Kreacher?" Regulus asked in disbelief from his new position on the hardwood floor. Sure enough, the unsightly little elf was standing just down the hallway, head cocked to the side in question. "What the hell are _you_ doing here? And _don't_ call Sirius that!"

Regulus's tongue leapt to Sirius's defense out of pure habit. While Kreacher had naturally been ecstatic upon Regulus's return, he had not warmed up to Sirius one iota. While Regulus would never let Sirius hear him correcting Kreacher's language, he felt that antagonism between the two was unnecessary.

"Kreacher comes here often, and to Master Cissa's, so he can be of help to _real_ Blacks. Masters Bellatrix and Rodolphus will be so pleased that Master Regulus has returned to them!"

Regulus tried to stand up but failed. He was shaking uncontrollably. Kreacher often disappeared for long stretches of time, but Regulus, as well as the others, had assumed he'd been holing himself up in the dusty corners of Grimmauld Place. It had never occurred to anyone that Kreacher might have left the house!

Regulus's lips were so dry that he could feel them cracking open. "Kreacher…" he croaked. "Exactly how are you helping Bella and the others?"

Kreacher adopted a rather proud look and Regulus didn't even need to listen to his answer. He could only hear his heart pounding in his ears. How long had Kreacher been sneaking off? How much information had he already revealed? Was Grimmauld Place even a safe house anymore? With a shriek, Regulus hopped to his feet. He had to get out. How much time had passed? Likely too long. Bella had probably calmed down enough to have realized she had a houseguest by now.

Regulus eyed the window. Dashing back out the front door would be too dangerous. He actually took two steps towards the study window before he stopped.

No…he had come this far. He couldn't go back empty handed.

"Kreacher!" he yelled, suddenly, whirling back around. "Kreacher, you didn't tell me you were in contact with my family! This is great!"

Kreacher broke into a toothy smile. "Kreacher was going to tell you, but Master Bella wanted it to be a surprise when they came to get you."

Regulus continued to smile at his house elf, but there was a white hot fear pulsing just under his skin. Furiously his brain snapped all the obvious pieces into place.

Voldemort _had_ told Bella about Regulus, and likely put her in charge of bringing him in.

Kreacher didn't realize Bella meant Regulus harm, and had been channeling her information.

The entire Order had been compromised.

"Oh, I…I love surprises," Regulus squeaked. "S—so much that I'm…in the middle of one now! Kreacher, I'm here to pick up something the Dark Lord gave to Bella. She just brought it back from the bank. I need to bring it to him for him…as a—a surprise!"

Kreacher nodded, wide-eyed.

"Can you show me where she put it?" Regulus asked hopefully.

"Master Bella emptied her valuables from Gringotts just now," Kreacher said, nodding. "She left everything in the sun room when she received a letter from Master Rodolphus's brother."

"Great!" Regulus yelled, and he set off running. Kreacher followed him anxiously.

Regulus skidded to a halt in the sunroom. Lestrange and Black family heirlooms and assets were stacked pell-mell everywhere. The light reflecting off all the gold in the room was almost blinding.

Shaking, Regulus tried his summoning charm again. He did _not_ have time to examine every one of these objects.

To his surprise and relief, a chalice came surging towards him. At the last second, Regulus realized the nature of the object he was about to catch, and so ripped off his jacked and caught the cup inside it with a grunt.

From the other room, he heard a door slam open and he started to shake in terror.

"Kreacher," he whispered. "As your Master, I am ordering you to _lie_ to Bella and Rodolphus. And to _everyone_ else. Remember, _I'm_ your real Master, so you have to obey me!"

Kreacher nodded, giving Regulus a look like he was spouting off nonsense.

"Do _not_ let anyone know that you saw me here or what you saw me take. Bella would hurt you if you…ruined her surprise."

Kreacher agreed. Regulus's brain was almost sparking, he was thinking so fast. There were a million other things he needed to discuss with Kreacher, but it would have to wait. He tied his jacket sleeves together to keep the horcrux—or at least what he desperately assumed was the horcrux—safe and sprinted down the hall.

There was no chance of outrunning Bella and Rodolphus, even if he sent himself sailing out a window or door, so Regulus did the next best thing. He sprinted to the adjacent drawing room, grabbed a fistful of floo powder, and dived headfirst into the fire. Realizing at the last second that shouting 'Grimmauld Place' would immediately reveal his identity and location, instead he yelled the first alternative that came to his mind.

"Diagon Alley!"

* * *

"Where are you off to, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. "Just going to go walk about for a while. You know, window shop…maybe stop by Knockturn Alley…"

"That's not funny," Hermione admonished. "You know how unsafe things are at the best of times."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I just wanted to go stretch my legs for a bit; it's taking the Weasleys forever to finish eating. If I agree to let you escort me, will you let me go?"

Hermione sneered sarcastically. "You're hilarious."

"So that's a yes?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll tell Ms. Weasley we'll just be popping in next door."

Hermione rejoined Harry a moment later and the two left the ice cream parlor. They made comfortable small-talk while Harry stared dreamily into the Quidditch supply store. Harry was grateful that Hermione hadn't brought up Voldemort or horcruxes yet. Harry wasn't stupid. He knew his friends had been listening in last night and were in on the base details. Honestly, he would have told them everything himself if he thought they didn't already know. He was happy they hadn't been pressing him for details yet, though. A brief moment of respite from thinking about the war and the lunatics who wanted him dead was nice.

"Isn't that Lucius Malfoy?" Hermione gasped, snapping Harry from his reverie.

"Huh?" Harry turned to follow her eyeline. "Shit," he whispered, pressing up against the wall of Quality Quidditch Supplies and trying to look small as Mr. Malfoy surged past them with a determined look on his face.

"What is he doing here?"

"Maybe he's out shopping?" Hermione asked desperately. "He's not actually a wanted man, yet, remember? Not until the Ministry get their heads out of their assess."

Harry sighed. "You're right," he admitted. Sometimes it was still hard for him to reconcile the Death Eaters he knew wanted to kill him with the public personas some of them still maintained. Lucius Malfoy was _not_ going to attack him in the middle of the street!

"He looked awfully determined, though," Harry said once his breathing had returned to normal. "And look at that!" he added, dashing after Lucius Malfoy a few paces before stopping again. He pointed to the man. "He's got his wand out!"

"Yeah, he's casting some sort of spell," Hermione muttered. "…over and over again."

Harry pulled Hermione with him and she didn't protest. The two followed Lucius Malfoy at a slight distance.

"Look at how he's darting his eyes all around," Harry whispered. "Hermione, I think he's trying to summon something!"

Hermione shook her head and blinked in confusion. "But what?"

"That!" Harry yelled. A small, black bundle flew from a side street. Lucius Malfoy stopped in surprise, and then reached out a hand, but before he could grasp the bundle, he was knocked off his feet by a jet of red light. The object, which appeared to be a wadded up coat of some kind, landed next to him on the ground. While Lucius Malfoy was still struggling to right himself amidst the chatter of concerned bystanders, none other than Regulus Black came sprinting up, grabbed the jacket, and immediately collided with Harry, knocking all three teenagers to the ground.

"Regulus?" Hermione screeched.

"Mudblood! Mr. Potter!" Regulus looked absolutely berserk. He got up and started running away again, screaming at the two from over his shoulder.

"Who are you here with?" he demanded. "I need to get back home!"

"What?" Harry screamed. "What are you doing here?" He and Hermione scrambled after Regulus. Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw, too his horror, that Lucius Malfoy was back on his feet.

"Never mind, run faster," he urged Hermione. They swerved in and around confused shoppers. Hermione even threw one or two jinxes back over her shoulder. The first knocked out a store window. Harry winced when he heard the glass shatter. Hermione's next spell was blocked by Lucius Malfoy. Her third knocked a store sign down right on top of him.

Harry and Hermione fell into action with Regulus so easily, it was as if he were a part of their group. They didn't have much trouble anticipating his moves and kept pace with him as he zig zagged through Diagon Alley.

"This way!" Hermione grabbed Harry's sleeve and the two turned on a dime, sending up dust, after Regulus, who had just ducked into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Regulus?" Harry managed to grab the youngest Black by his shirt before he could dash off again. "Calm down. We're in the middle of Diagon Alley, no one can hurt you here."

"No one can _see_ me!" Regulus insisted in a desperate but mercilessly quiet voice. A few people were staring at them, but no one seemed to have quite realized anything semi-serious was going on. "I don't think Lucius saw who I was but if he did…oh, maybe it doesn't even matter at this point. No! Of course it does! If he saw me, then they'll know that _I_ know and they'll know who took it from them!"

"Reg, you're babbling," Harry tried to take the jacket from Regulus but Regulus only tightened his grip and turned away.

Hermione was gone. A minute later, she came back leading the Weasley clan behind her. Harry sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her clear thinking.

"Harry, what's going on?" Ron asked warily. "There's some large crowd gathered outside in the street and everyone's yelling. Hang on…is that Reg? What're you doing here, mate? Sirius said you had to stay in the house."

Regulus composed himself just long enough to send a death glare in Ron's direction.

"We need to get him out of here," Mr. Weasley said urgently. "Come along, you lot, people are starting to stare."

"Yes, _Reginald,_ " Hermione said loudly while their group shuffled to the back fireplace. " _Cyrus_ is probably missing you!" She shouted in an attempt to assuage the fears of any Leaky Cauldron patrons who thought they'd heard the names Regulus and Sirius.

Mr. Weasley threw up a small silencing spell in front of the large fireplace to give them privacy while Ms. Weasley led everyone into the fires two at a time. Regulus was glancing nervously towards the door and Harry knew he was waiting for the moment Lucius Malfoy came bursting through it.

Harry held on tightly to Regulus's free arm—the other still desperately clutching his jacket, which Harry had a sneaking suspicion something was bundled inside of—and yelled "Number 12, Grimmauld Place." The two of them were whisked away.

* * *

Sirius was pacing hard enough to scuff the floor. He jumped excitedly when he heard the fireplace roar to life, but instead of his expected headmaster, it was Ginny and Fred Weasley.

"Ginny, Fred…" Sirius said. "You're home early."

Ginny had a wide-eyed looked on her face. She seemed at a loss for words and only waved Sirius's attention back to the fire, where the rest of her family soon came tumbling out until finally Hermione, Harry, and—

"Regulus!"

"Sirius," Mr. Weasley cut him off. "Sirius, something happened in Diagon Alley. There was some sort of scuffle in the street and we ran into your brother in the Leaky Cauldron."

"What?" Sirius screamed. "What happened?"

A lot of voices started talking at once. Regulus, who was holding his jacket rolled up in his arms, staggered to his feet.

"You stay right the fuck there, Regulus Black!" Sirius yelled, pointing. Harry filled Sirius in quickly on what he and Hermione knew of what had happened.

"You think Lucius Malfoy was trying to steal Regulus's jacket?" George asked. "Why on earth would he do that? And what was Regulus doing in Diagon Alley in the first place?"

Harry shrugged.

"Diagon Alley?"

Everyone turned to the fireplace again. Remus Lupin had just stepped out of it. "Regulus was in Diagon Alley?"

"Remus?" Mr. Weasley asked. "What're you doing back?"

"Professor Dumbledore notified me a few hours ago that something was going on and that Regulus was missing. He's on his way," Remus nodded to Sirius. "But he's going to be tied up for a while yet so he asked me to return from my mission early to see what I could do. A favor I was not unwilling to consider," he added with a look that suggested he hadn't been enjoying the company of his fellow werewolves.

Hermione filled Remus in on what had just been said.

"Sirius," Remus asked. "How did Regulus get to Diagon Alley?"

"I don't know," said Sirius. "We'll have to ask him—fuck!"

Regulus was gone again. With a growl, Sirius dashed up the stairs after him. Remus took a moment to tell everyone else to stay downstairs in the kitchen before running after Sirius himself.

"Sirius!" Remus hollered, but too late. Sirius had blasted Regulus's bedroom door wide open with an almighty crash.

Regulus was inside, hunkered over on his bed and breathing haltingly.

"I told you to stay put!" Sirius said harshly. Regulus looked up at him with panicked eyes.

"Sirius, calm down."

Sirius shrugged out of Remus's grasp and yanked Regulus off the bed by his collar.

"What do you think you're doing, running off like that?" Sirius demanded. When Regulus tried to struggle free, Sirius slapped him hard.

"Answer me!"

"Sirius, let him breathe," Remus said calmly. He put a gentle hand on Regulus's shoulder and pulled him away from Sirius.

"Sh, just take a second. Breathe," Remus ordered. Regulus took several shuddering breaths.

"Okay, let's try again. Regulus, what's been going on?" Remus asked kindly. Any other time, Regulus would have protested being talked to like he was a small child, but at that moment he was too grateful that Lupin had stepped between him and Sirius to care.

"We're not safe here," Regulus whispered. "They know. Bella knows where we are, and if the wards aren't safe anymore—!"

Sirius's eyes widened and he started to raise his voice again. "How do you about the—?"

"Never mind how he knows, Sirius," Remus cut off his friend. "Regulus, calm yourself. We're still perfectly safe here. It's true that Dumbledore's fidelius charm has been reacting badly with your father's wards. Something has been causing it to wear off every few months, but we have been recasting it. In fact, Dumbledore did that just last week. I assure you, we're safe here."

Remus wiped a smudge of grime off Regulus's cheek and pushed him gently onto the bed.

"So now that you know you're safe, why don't you fill us in on everything?"

"You were with _Bellatrix?_ " Sirius hissed, clenching his fists.

"Shut up, Sirius," Remus snapped. "Go on, Regulus, tell us."

Regulus nodded. This had been his plan overall, hadn't it? He had known Sirius would be mad with him but not this much. The way Sirius was glaring, his arms folded across his chest, it didn't seem like he'd be too pleased with Regulus even after he heard about what he'd done.

Regulus told them everything, even the parts that he'd filled in for himself like Kreacher's motivations and the fact that Bella had likely asked Lucius to hunt for Regulus in Diagon Alley because she was a wanted criminal and he wasn't.

"Where's the chalice, Regulus?" Remus asked quietly once Regulus was finished and Sirius had stopped barking redundant questions at his brother.

Regulus slid onto the floor and pulled his jacked out from under his bed. It was no longer tied, and the cup was just resting on it now.

"Are you sure this is a horcrux?" Remus asked.

Regulus nodded. "It feels like the locket did. I had worried Bella might have put some protective spells on it but I was wrong. You can touch it."

Remus nodded. He began to examine the object closely while Regulus fidgeted.

There was silence for a while before Regulus could stand it no longer. "I just wanted to show you I could be useful!" he blurted out. "That I'm not a fucking child!"

"You almost got yourself dragged back to Voldemort!" Sirius said. "I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you deliberately disobeying me and running off on some half-wit plan!"

"Your godson does the exact same thing and he's your little hero!" Regulus spat. "None of you would even know that Voldemort _had_ horcruxes if I hadn't told you!"

Remus wasn't quick enough to stop Sirius from striking Regulus again. This time, Regulus fought back and he and Sirius landed in a heap on the floor. Regulus's exhaustion was starting to catch up with him, though, and soon Sirius had him pinned.

"Going to hit me again?" Regulus spat bitterly.

"Don't tempt me," Sirius said through gritted teeth. "And lose the attitude." Sirius raised his hand again, but Regulus gave a satisfying flinch and so he lowered it again.

"Sirius!" Remus yelled. "Enough! Let him up."

Sirius complied, but he kept a tight hold on Regulus as the two stood up awkwardly.

"I hate you, Sirius," Regulus said angrily.

Remus had to stop Sirius from jumping his brother again. "I said enough," he said in complete frustration. "There is obviously a lot to deal with here. Regulus, if you'll excuse us for a moment, I think I need a word with your brother in the hall."

Remus dragged Sirius out of Regulus's room. They had to go to the far landing before they were out of earshot because Sirius had destroyed Regulus's bedroom door.

"Sirius I need you to calm down and talk to me."

Sirius shifted his weight anxiously, clearly wanting to run back to Regulus. "What do you want, Moony?" he asked irritably. "I've got some things to take care of."

"Just pause for a second. Sirius, you cannot go back in there and beat up your brother like some sort of thug!"

"Oh, please, Moony—!"

"Don't be like your father, Padfoot," Remus said solemnly.

His words did the trick. Sirius seemed to visibly deflate. "No," he insisted. "Don't say that. I was…"

"About a minute away from giving that kid a full-on beating. Not to mention you clearly wanted him frightened. Sirius…I understand."

Sirius, who had been hanging his head, looked up suddenly. "Huh?"

" _I_ understand that you were worried. And _I_ get that you were trying to make Regulus understand how hurt and scared you've been feeling all day by forcing him to feel the same way. But _Regulus_ doesn't understand that, Sirius. He's been so very confused by everything that right now instead of understanding and remorse all you're likely sparking in him is resentment." Remus gave Sirius a knowing look. "I know you're capable of being a good parent, Sirius, I've seen it, but Regulus isn't a small child."

"I know that," Sirius said automatically, frowning in annoyance.

Remus held his hands up in a placating way. "I know that you know. And don't get me wrong, Regulus still very much needs your guidance. But he is not the same child you left behind. You need to acknowledge that he is eighteen now, not fourteen. That's not too old for rules or discipline, but he is old enough to be trusted, I think."

"Trust him?" Sirius asked skeptically. "How can I trust him after he pulls a stunt like this?"

Remus shook his head. "You've got this backwards, Padfoot," he said simply. "This whole fiasco would not have happened had you trusted Regulus in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

Remus sighed. "If you had filled Regulus in on current Order business as he so clearly wanted, it's extremely likely he would have just _told_ us about his other horcrux lead, and left Professor Dumbledore to go get it. I don't think he wants to fight in this war any more than _you_ want him to, Sirius. I think he just wants you to be proud of him."

"I am proud of him. I've told him that. He managed to turn out so good even after I left him behind with those maniacs," Sirius said sadly.

Remus nodded.

"But what do I do now?" Sirius asked desperately.

Remus bit his lip. "That's up to you. You need to talk with him, obviously. I don't expect you'll work everything out; that's all going to take some time, but you need to at least get a start on it. Talk first, _then_ dole out whatever discipline you see fit. Oh, and Sirius, I'll take the horcrux and talk to Dumbledore when he gets here. You should probably just stay up here with Reg for tonight. He's going to need you."

"He's so jealous of Harry."

Remus gave his friend a sad smile. "Take it as a compliment, I guess. You know, the two of them get along remarkably well, everything considered. Oh Sirius, one more thing."

Sirius, who had been starting to turn away, looked back. "Yes?"

"If you listen to anything I say, let it be this: don't hurt Kreacher."

"Huh?" Sirius asked.

"Eventually it's going to come up, probably tonight," Remus explained. "When it does, _do not_ threaten that elf. Regulus obviously cares for him, remember that he took Kreacher's place in that cave. I'm not sure Regulus would ever forgive you if you did something to his house elf."

Sirius scoffed in disbelief. "How could anyone be attached to that ungodly eyesore?"

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't know, Sirius…maybe a little boy who found himself all alone in a big, scary house after his older brother left him behind."

* * *

Remus ducked into Regulus's room to take the horcrux downstairs. Regulus briefly argued that he should be the one to show it to Dumbledore, but Remus insisted he needed to talk with Sirius more.

"I don't want to talk to him. I'd lock my door if I still had one."

Remus gave him an encouraging smile and promised that the headmaster would send for Regulus sometime in the next day or so. Then Regulus was alone again.

"Reg?"

Regulus frowned as Sirius walked into his room.

"Can I talk to you for a little bit?"

Regulus glared. "We both know you're not really asking," he quipped.

Sirius sighed and sat next to his brother on the bed. He pulled Regulus to him and gently started running his hand down the side of Regulus's face, his shoulder, his arms…examining him closely.

"What are you doing?" Regulus griped.

"What I should have done the instant I saw you," Sirius said regretfully. "Are you hurt anywhere, Regulus?"

"Yes, my fucking face," Regulus snapped, pointing to the dark discoloration on his cheek where Sirius had hit him.

"Hey, you got in a few good hits as well," Sirius deadpanned. When Regulus didn't look amused, he added, "I shouldn't have acted like that, Reg. I'm sorry. I guess…sometimes I get confused, too."

"About what exactly?" Regulus asked coldly.

"About whether I should treat you like my brother or my child," Sirius said quietly. "We used to tussle all the time when we were little. I wasn't responsible for you then," he added seriously. "But I am now, and I should have handled myself better."

"All we do is go backwards," Regulus said suddenly. Sirius blinked in surprise.

Regulus was right; it did feel like for every step's worth of progress the two of them made, they were constantly sliding two steps back. Sirius had thought he'd had a good grip on his role in Regulus's life after the incident at the Department of Mysteries, but here he'd gone a botched everything up again.

"It feels that way," Sirius said. "But no amount of relapses can undo how much I love you, or how proud I am of what a good person you've become."

"Don't be sappy," Regulus said, curling his lip. Sirius laughed.

"I'll be as saccharine as I like," he said, enclosing an unwilling Regulus into his arms. "Because despite your chronic disobedience, you're the best brother—or child—I could have asked for."

"Dear _God_ ," Regulus moaned. "Just belt me like your friend told you to and let me go to bed, I can't listen to any more of this!"

"You heard me and Remus?" Sirius asked in confusion, leaning back to look Regulus in the face.

Regulus attempted once more to free himself from Sirius's arms to no success.

"Every word, nitwit, remember how you _blew up my door?_ "

Sirius grimaced awkwardly. "Well I suppose that saves me a lot of talking," he admitted.

"Yeah," Regulus said. "Sirius, I'm sorry I acted like you had to choose between me or your godson. I know it's not fair and besides, we both know who'd win that vote." Regulus smiled bitterly, his eyes downcast.

"Regulus," said Sirius firmly. "How many times do I need to tell you that I don't love Harry more than I love you?"

"Oh please," Regulus scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It's no contest. He's your best friend's son. And you _chose_ to be his godfather. You only got _stuck_ with me after Mum and Dad were ordered by Grandfather to have a second heir."

Sirius frowned. "True," he said. "But I was free of you for fifteen years, and the instant it was an option, I _chose_ to get you back."

Regulus paused, thinking. "Did you know I'd defected when you brought me back?"

Sirius gently pushed Regulus's head onto his shoulder. The poor thing was really at the end of his energy by then. Sirius had a suspicion the instant they stopped talking, that Regulus would be asleep. Perhaps it would be wisest to cut their conversation short for the night so Regulus could rest.

"Harry told me shortly before we set off to find you," Sirius answered. "But that was long after I'd made my choice."

Regulus shifted about nervously. Sirius put a hand on his back to still him.

"So you were willing to resurrect a Death Eater just to see me again?"

"Regulus, I would have risen Gelert Grindelwald from his grave if it meant I could have you back."

Regulus laughed. It was a short, unsteady sound, but it was good enough for Sirius.

"You need to sleep, Reggie," he ordered. "We can talk more tomorrow."

"Letting me escape un-smacked, eh? I'm astounded you'd shirk your parental duties in such a way. Your friend will be so disappointed." Regulus slid free of his shoes and slacks before slipping into bed, a contented look rolling onto his tired face.

"Well, when Remus asks, we'll tell him I took to you with one of Dad's old slippers. Can't have him thinking I can't control you or he might threaten to take over himself. And werewolves are a tad bit stronger than the average human…"

Regulus's eyes widened. Sirius laughed at his shocked expression and began taking off his robes.

"What're you doing _now_?" Regulus demanded.

"Making sure you don't run off anywhere tonight," said Sirius as he crawled into bed next to his brother and put one arm firmly around Regulus's waist. "Since it seems you can't be trusted on your own just yet, it looks like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."

"You are _insufferable_ , Sirius. Anyone who walks by here is going to see you through the gaping hole where my bedroom door used to be!"

Sirius snorted. "Fine by me."

Regulus groaned exasperatedly, but a part of him felt happy. As silly as it was, this sort of thing (Regulus supposed he had to admit it was _snuggling_ ) was something Sirius only shared with him. Sirius Black would never behave this way around anyone else, and Regulus appreciated having dominion over this one aspect of his brother. He felt loved and...considered.

Sirius closed his eyes. He was starting to feel the strain of the day as well, and knew he would fall asleep soon and probably sleep until lunch the next day.

Just as Sirius was drifting off, he felt Regulus stir beside him. Then to his surprise, Regulus kissed him hesitantly on the cheek. Sirius didn't move a muscle, because Regulus must've thought he was already asleep. There was no way in hell he'd behave so affectionately if he knew Sirius were aware of it.

Regulus sighed something quietly before settling back into Sirius's embrace and nodding off. His words had been barely a low whisper, but Sirius Black knew an _I love you_ when he heard it, and that was all he needed in that moment.


	6. What Once Was Heaven is Zenith Now

**Warnings:** None. Although a brief reminder that this isn't really a story in the strictest sense of the word and all chapters share only a loose continuity.

 

Things had never been quieter at Grimmauld Place. Regulus found himself completely alone more and more these days as Sirius had retracted on his word to him and begun to leave the house on Order business. The Dark Lord had tipped his hand at the Department of Mysteries nearly six months prior, and although there had still been plausible deniability at that time, there was no hiding his antics since Regulus's theft of his gauntlet horcrux. Lord Voldemort was on the rampage, scrambling frantically to—Regulus assumed—gather his remaining horcruxes and perhaps create some more. So while the reaction had been delayed, Sirius was officially off the hook with the Ministry at this point.

Regulus found it a particularly bitter taste to swallow that it had ironically been _his_ own actions that had brought about this newfound threat to what little stability remained in his life. More than once, Regulus found himself admitting that if he could take it all back, he probably would. To him it would be worth keeping mum about Voldemort's horcruxes if only to extend Sirius's imprisonment at Grimmauld.

But now his brother was off gallivanting with the rest of his Order friends and while he had tried to talk his way around this issue, Regulus wasn't buying it. He had been lied to. Sirius had promised he would stay home, and now had realized that wasn't possible. It was nothing more than a pipe dream. It simply wasn't realistic that one of Dumbledore's more talented, able-bodied wizards sit at home babysitting his brother all day when he should be off actually doing something.

Sirius never told Regulus what he did, either. Well, he usually tried to lie about it, describing routine scouting missions and recruitment work, but Regulus knew it was bullshit. Sirius recently had seemed to realize that he wasn't fooling his brother and so had simply stopped trying to explain himself all together. Though he did still refrain from returning home until his was completely healed from whatever escapades he had been a part of, and while Regulus hated the extra waiting, he was grateful that he had yet to see his brother injured.

And Regulus had felt himself growing increasingly restless. He wanted out of the house but did not dare venture outside. Sirius would know if he had left. He had warded for that the morning after Regulus had returned with the horcux last summer. And as upset as Regulus was with Sirius, he did not want his brother to be distracted for _Regulus's_ safety during Order business.

These feelings grew worse and worse until they finally hit a crescendo around the end of September. Then Regulus suddenly...stopped. It were as though something in him had snapped and he no longer seemed to care for his situation one way or another. Where for the last few months he had felt upset and antsy, now he was calm. He took to spending the hours of his day and night lounging in the library, or stretched out on his parents' balcony, staring at the stars. What did any of it matter? Sometimes he would read random chapters from casually selected books or make up his own constellations in the sky. He drew pictures (something he found he was surprisingly good at) and scribbled down short stories and poetry (something he felt he was much less good at). He was careful to hide all his artistic endeavors from Sirius on the rare occasions that the man returned to Grimmauld Place. Not because he was ashamed of them (he didn't much _care_ what Sirius thought anymore) but simply because he was loathe to talk to Sirius about much these days and didn't want to start a conversation. He also didn't want to have to listen to the forced, fake praise that his brother would likely vomit out if he ever caught sight of any of Regulus's works.

So when the fireplace downstairs roared to life in the early hours of the evening on October 31st, Regulus assumed it was merely Sirius checking in to make sure his little brother was still sitting at home, well-behaved and docile.

Regulus, who was lazing about on the drawing room settee, debated dashing upstairs to pretend to be asleep in bed and thus avoid talking to Sirius, but decided against it. Part of him enjoyed how uncomfortable Sirius was around him lately—for Regulus's aloof apathy seemed to frighten his brother a little, and Sirius seemed increasingly wary of leaving Regulus alone for long stretches of time, though this didn't stop the bastard from doing it. A small smile flickered onto Regulus's face as he relished the idea of Sirius's guilt over Regulus's obvious mental degredation.

It was a great surprise to Regulus then, when he saw Harry Potter wander into his drawing room, not Sirius Black.

"Mr. Potter..." Regulus eyed the sixteen-year-old calmly. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and tossed his book onto the end table.

"Hi, Reg," Harry said with a smile. From the look of things he had come straight from classes. He was still in his school uniform and even had his bookbag slung over his shoulder.

Regulus frowned, wondering if something was wrong and Harry had come looking for Order assistance.

"Sirius isn't here right now," he said apologetically. "If you're looking for him, you'll likely have a long wait. He's off with Lupin somewhere. You'd have better luck going back to school and badgering Severus about where he's run off to..."

But Harry shook his head. He let his bag slide to the floor and then took a seat on the couch across from Regulus. The last few rays of 7:30 sunshine came bleating in through the bay windows and cast half of the boys face in an odd glow. "I know Sirius isn't here. I came to talk to you, actually."

Regulus tilted his head. "Me?"

Harry nodded. "I hope you don't mind. Are you busy?"

Regulus laughed out loud. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he snapped. "I've nothing to be busy with! I've just been sitting here. I'll likely die sitting in this house, you know. I don't even have the blasted house elf for company anymore."

Harry frowned. Carefully, he started to ask, "Where is—?"

Regulus waved his words away. "Can't be trusted, Sirius said. Had him shipped off to Hogwarts actually, where Dumbledore could keep him complacent under some really powerful magic. He's probably making your dinners every night," Regulus added bitterly. "I tried to tell Sirius that Kreacher would obey my orders over anyone else's, but he seemed not to believe me. Appeared to think me a liar who was willing to sacrifice the safety of this house and the entire Order just to have someone to talk to."

Harry shifted about uncomfortably.

"I mean I probably _would_ have, to be honest," Regulus admitted idly. "But in this case there really was no need. He could have remained at home; there truly is no danger that he would disobey me, the favorite son of his favorite master. Now he's been sent away for however long this ungodly war is going to continue...and he's not young, you know. I worry that he'll die one night, a hundred miles away from his home," Regulus finished gravely.

"Maybe if you talked to Sirius again he'd understand," Harry suggested.

Regulus smiled pityingly. He was unwilling to argue with Harry at the moment. Obviously Harry's Sirius Black was a very different creature to Regulus's own. A reasonable and understanding person who served as a connection rod between Harry and his own past. A conduit for Harry's desire to meet his own deceased parents.

"What did you come to ask me about, Mr. Potter? It must have been something important for you to have snuck away from school."

Harry blinked, and then appeared to gather himself.

"Do you remember being dead?" He asked earnestly.

Regulus didn't answer right away. And when he did, he chose his words carefully.

"No," he said. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned back a bit in contemplation. "For me it was as though all the years between the moment of my death and my reawakening had never happened."

Harry nodded, his expression resigned as though he had been expecting that answer, yet still a little crestfallen.

"At least at first."

Harry's eyes darted back to Regulus's own. He leaned forward eagerly, but didn't speak. He trusted Regulus to keep talking.

"I've done my fair share of research into the magic that brought me back, and it seems that it certainly rewound the conscious memories of my spirit back to the point of my death. Yet it does not seem to have the power to fully erase them. Somewhere in the subconscious recesses of my mind, I'm confident that I do still have recollections of where my soul came to rest after my death."

"Do you have proof of this?" Asked Harry in fascination. "Or are you just theorizing?"

Regulus scratched at his neck. "There are times, usually in dreams, when I remember a great deal. By the time I awake, these moments of revelation have usually faded to mere memories of feelings, or sometimes a few phrases of dialogue, though I struggle to place who said them to me."

"Have you told anyone about this?" Harry asked.

Regulus shook his head immediately, a look of exasperation on his face. "Of course not. I have not desire to be laughed at. Nor do I wish to be psychoanalyzed by my brother's overbearing werewolf friend, who will inevitably liken my experiences to some sort of plea for comfort from my big brother, a psychological trick of the mind and little else. And I certainly do not want my very sanity questioned by that red-headed nightmare your friend calls a mother. I don't want word of my...I suppose for lack of a better word I will call them visions, to travel around the Order of the Phoenix like a piece of primary school gossip."

"Sirius wouldn't—"

"Sirius would tell Lupin, who would tell Dumbledore, who would then tell everyone else possibly as an underhanded attempt to force me to open up to his lackeys or possibly just for the hell of it, I don't know."

Just as Regulus had avoided correcting Harry on his opinion of Sirius's double nature, so too did Harry refrain from telling Regulus how he couldn't see Professor Dumbledore behaving less than admirably.

Instead Harry asked quietly, "But yet you told me?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "And are you not the one person who would believe me? You've yet to ask me what any other person would have by now. How do I know what I see and feel while I sleep is not merely a sequence of bizarre dreams?" Regulus smiled at the look on Harry's face, a look which suggested that question had not even occurred to the boy. "You understand the fundamental difference between your dreams and the visions you have during your moments of connection with the Dark Lord. Therefore you can trust my judgment implicitly in a way that those who have never experienced anything beyond normal dreams simply cannot."

After a pause, during which the last of the sunlight disappeared and Regulus lazily lit the lamps with his mother's wand, Harry finally asked, "Tell me more about what you saw, won't you Reg?"

Regulus smiled. "It's not exactly pleasant," he admitted. He found himself more than willing to talk, though. Though he prided himself on being a very private person, he had disliked keeping these particular ideas to himself. "It's frustrating, after a sense. Part of me is so sure that what I see while I sleep is so very clear and informative. When I wake, I feel as if I can remember only vague snippets of what was once the memory of a very interesting conversation.

"There are colors, most of them over-saturated, and distinct feelings. Melancholy, sadness, but all of them linked to some source of great joy. There's always contentment, and the feeling of being held. Most nights when these memories choose to take me, I feel very warm. And there are sounds. The sounds probably survive the most unscathed. When my experiences started coming back to me, which was several months ago, all I could remember were sounds for a good while. The rest has been getting slightly clearer as time goes on."

"Sounds...like voices?" Harry asked.

"Voices with no distinct words," Regulus admitted. "The sound of laughing and sometimes of crying. Inhuman noises that my mind pairs so frequently with a blurred, calico color scheme that I am certain my dead soul ended up reunited in some part with Olivera, the cat my father gave me when I was very young. You must think that foolish. That a cat would be regarded in the afterlife as equal to a wizard."

"Perhaps because to you she was," Harry suggested. Regulus cast him an odd look.

"What brought this question about?" he asked. "Sirius is not probing into my personal affairs vicariously through you, is he?"

"No," Harry laughed. "I was just...curious...lately."

"Did you want to know if I'd reunited with all my family? So you could take my words as affirmation that you would someday meet your parents?"

Regulus's words weren't cruel or judmental. Like Harry had claimed to, Regulus honestly just wondered.

"And just how did you come to that assumption?" Harry asked. Regulus only smirked.

"You're likely missing one hell of a Halloween feast up at the school."

Harry closed his eyes and nodded. "Surely you're at least partly right," he admitted. "And I guess I can appreciate you giving me some hope."

Regulus smiled. "I suppose giving someone a modicum of hope that they might one day experience the profound is as good a way to spend my evening as any. Merlin knows I have nothing else to do with my time." Regulus slumped like a man resigned to his fate. Harry looked at him with some sadness.

"I should warn you that Sirius was due back last night, which if his previous escapades are anything to judge by, means he'll be returning tonight, providing he's not dead in a ditch somewhere," Regulus scoffed flippantly to avoid admitting any real worry over Sirius's tardiness. "I know he'd never dream of punishing you for anything short of premeditated murder, but I'd imagine you don't want to get caught by him."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, Sirius probably shouldn't find me here. He might let word slip to Professor Lupin or Ms. Weasley and then I really would be in trouble."

Harry stood up, scratching nervously at his arm and looking like he hadn't quite gotten all of what he'd come looking for, but had run out of things to say.

"I'll not be going anywhere," Regulus said as if stating the obvious. "And I'd not ban you from ever broaching this subject again with me...Harry."

It was the first time Regulus had ever called Harry by his first name, and Harry would be lying if he denied his excitement. Here was Regulus Black, a hero of the first wizarding war, and the only person to ever come back from the dead, willing to open up to Harry of all people when he was normally so reserved and guarded.

Perhaps Regulus felt some level of kinship for Harry because they were both connected to Sirius, or maybe even because Harry survived the killing curse, making him the closest thing to a peer that Regulus had. They were both wanted by Voldemort, that was for sure. In the end, Regulus supposed he might have just been happy that he'd found someone else to tether him to this present-day world. That there was someone beyond Sirius who might actually...know him. Regulus was by no means cured of his apathy, nor his depression, but he felt a little better, like he knew there was a horizon out there somewhere, even if he couldn't see it just yet.

It was childish, but in that moment, Regulus felt there like maybe Harry Potter was the one person he might willingly show his artwork to. Maybe some other evening, he would.

"I'd better go back to school then," Harry said somberly. Regulus stood up and the two shook hands. Before Harry left, he said one more thing, and with such sincerity that Regulus was given pause.

"He just wants to fix the world for you, you have to know that. He loves you, you know?"

Regulus closed his eyes, a swirl of guilt and anxiety making its way down his spine.

"Yes, Harry. I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Title and chapter headings credited to Emily Dickinson.


End file.
